WICKED's Little Rebel
by Rain Fairdove
Summary: The Glade had been filled with teenage boys until now. In a blissfully ignorant state of exhaustion, lies a young female in the box. The only thing; her body was riddled with wounds of every size. Two word carved hastily into her slightly tan flesh over and over again as if in a blind fit of rage and self destruction. "Kill me" - FULL SUMMARY INSIDE
1. Full Summary

Imagine yourself, stuck in a mesh of rough iron, hastily trying to pull yourself together as you prepare to reach the destination of this one way trip- whether you survive or not.

Regardless of the circumstances, any of this alone would make any sane person terrified beyond belief, yet, in a blissfully ignorant state of exhaustion, lies a young female- perfect in any typical way society would view such a specimen.

The only thing; her body was riddled with wounds of every size.

Two word carved hastily into her slightly tan flesh over and over again as if in a blind haze of hate and destruction.

Kill me.


	2. Kill me?

AN: Hiyaaaaaaaa, this is my first time writing and actually publishing a fanfic and I know everyyyoneeee says this but please bare with me if you see any mistakes or grammatical errors, like I said, its my first time and im kinda anxious about actually revealing my work to people however constructive criticism is appreciated and like literally thank you for even reading this far!

Anyway this story might be triggering so ummmmm don't read it if you do find it makes you uncomfortable and all that- I just sorta wanna show how after everything has turned to hell nothing can get worse and the only way forward is gonna be better so yeaaaaa... im gonna start the story now, thanks for reading!

I don't own Any characters from the maze runner series, all rights go to James Dashner.  
_

Newts POV

"-And that's when he said "you'll never be the man your mother was," and like literally three seconds after that Gally turned around and replied "oh yea well at least I had a mom, what 'bout you? I bet yours' turned 'round and ran after she realized she gave birth to a dude with no balls," and that's when George said-"

Zart had been telling me the story of how the last greenie got his ass handed to him by none other than our Gally, but 'unfortunately' the greenie alarm cut Zarts' story telling short.

We were currently hacking away at a tree stump that stubbornly refused to move out the way to make room for a new vegetable patch we wanted to plant- even with all of the farms and supplies it was ridiculous how much these boys ate- im surprised they ain't rolling around the glade looking like a bunch of fat, bloated blueberries.

"Aww man, and I didn't even get to the good part." Zart cursed under his breath in an exhausted kind of glee that could only be seen on the faces of hard workers, content with taking a small break to greet the greenie.

I chuckled quietly as I nodded my acknowledgement to the boy for his effort (and in some sympathy for not being able to continue his story) as I turned around and began making my way out of the bright gardens and towards the shimmering outline of raised metal that could definitely not be mistaken for anything other than the box.

Regardless of the fact that the greenie wasn't arriving for at least another 20-30 minutes, there was already a crowd forming and more was yet to come.

Upon my arrival at the foot of the box, I saw Alby wave me over and gesture to sit down obviously marking this as a gesture that he wanted to speak about something important.

"sup Alb," I nodded in greeting whilst lowering my torso down onto the raised metal to talk to our 'delightful' leader.

"Newt," Alby replied that solemn, stoic voice that seemed to be able to carry over every single command in a heartbeat.

"So whatcha want me for?" A lopsided grin gracing its way onto my features.

"What, cant a guy talk to his second command without being questioned about his motives?" He replied in mock hurt.

"Nah its just that you don't seem like the type to make small talk."

"Well what if I am today shank?"

"Then I've been shucked and you've been bloody abducted by aliens."

"Anyone would think that by the way you're speaking that everytime I open my mouth, its either to threaten someone, give an order, or feast on someone's corpse as a midmorning snack."

"Well that ain't far from the truth."

"Minho's filled your head with klunk ya know that right?"

"Bloody hell, what did you want me for anyway?"

"Nothing much, just thinking 'bout the greenie... We've really become a family ya know, its refreshing to see us all come such a long way and grow so close, its almost like the home we've never had," Alby replied softly as his eyes gazed over to a maze wall on the right of the doors- the one with all our names on.

I stayed silent for a few moments, shocked by our leaders' sentimental words and decided to break the silence before Alby decided to preach the bloody bible or something about us all being united in the blood and body of the maze or something (AN I am in no way mocking Christianity, I respect all religions and their beliefs, I just thought Newt would've said something sarcastic to lighten the mood ?)

"Alby don't go all soft on me now, we need a leader right now to put this panty wearin', thumb suckin' newbie in his place, ya got that ya big shank?" I said whilst reaching over and placing a calloused hand on his shoulder.

There was another pause. Not awkward by any means. Just the screeching of metal on metal as the shaft inside the box no doubt neared. By now most of the boys in the glade were scattered around the box as the faint rattle of wood and metal got faster and louder, like the shrill of a crescendo reaching its peak.

I briefly glanced at Ably as I got up, scanning the faces of those around me too- by this point we should have heard a scream or plea for help or something; most thought that they would've slammed into the ceiling of the damn shaft but no, the only sounds were that of supplies clattering to a halt as the box slammed to a sudden stop, signalling reaching its destination.

As if on cue, the metal claw like doors split oven revealing the makeshift entrance/exit of the box itself which where hauled open by Alby and Gally- I was usually the one to greet newbie's since according to Alby, I looked 'less threatening' whatever the shuck that meant.

Quickly tossing a leg over the side, I jumped in the box, a uneasy silence flooding the glade as I tried to make out the greenie among the masses of supplies and boxes littering the floor and sides.

Its only when I heard a couple of gasps from above me, that I spotted 'it'.

Or should I say her?

Whoever she was she was no doubt beautiful, lying peacefully yet blissfully ignorant of where she was, fast 'asleep' most likely in a dark corner of the box that hid her figure.

Its only when I moved towards her that I noticed what the gasps around me were directed at. Clutched around her fingers in a death grip resided a small yet wickedly deadly looking knife.

The girl was beautiful, yes, approachable... not so much.

That's when my eyes trailed down to the rest of her body.

Her torso was adorned with a faded grey tank top that hugged her curves in all the right places but that's not what I was looking at.  
( /ivys_outfit/set?id=214734134#fans )

Her slender legs showed off by a pair of camo shorts stood out the most.

She was covered in blood.

More specifically, her lower half was covered in her own blood.

Those long tan legs were covered in angry, red, jagged cuts, all still seeping blood as if that knife has recently taken to her thighs in a fit of blind rage and self destruction, all spelling out the same, hateful message in flesh and blood.

Kill me.

AN Omgggg if ur actually reading this then that means that you've actually read my first chapter and regardless of weather you think it sucked or not, u still read it so thank you so sososososos sooooo much for reading!

Idk how many people might actually like this but im happy to continue this is anyone shows support, like I said earlier, im really ''ugghhhhhh'' about publishing my work but if you like it please do say so, so I can continue.

Thanks again!


	3. I hope she's okay

HelloooooOoOOOo second chapter!

So, because i'm bored yet pretty sure that no one is gonna read this, im gonna update anyway and hope for the best ? ﾟﾘﾂ

I kinda rushed the end of this chapter but idk, I just wanted to post it and for the lAST 30 MINUTES I'VE BEEN TRyING TO BUT FOR SOME REASON IT KEEPS ON MESSING UP AND PUBLISHING THIS CHAPTER AS "Untitled Part 2" UGHHH IM GONNA SCREAAAAAAM

I don't own maze runner, James Dashner does, I only own my OC who's name will be revealed next chapter :)

Newt's POV

Horror.

Absolute, pure horror flooded my entire body.

My mind had barely registered the dreadful sight infront of me well enought to be able to take in what was going on around me.

I vaguely noted distant shouting, and the frenzy of gladers trying to get a better look at the greenie that had the gladers at the front so shocked. Yet, I couldn't seem to get to grips with the world outside of my entranced bubble; my senses were working overtime but my brain still refused to accept the broken girl a meter away from my feet.

The content expression that adorned her peaceful face; the slack, almost relaxed set of her shoulders as she layed across the mesh of solid metal; the deathly grip her hands had on the small dagger- perhaps almost comical considering she was asleep and that a grip that strong was practically unachievable within a persons' subconcious.

The way her blood painted her legs in a horrifying, although stunning tragic sort of way; countless 'KILL ME's engraved into her tender skin.

It made me sick.

It was Alby who broke me out of my trance. It wasn't until he had his hand on my shoulder and mouth by my ear repeating my name over again, that I realised how shallow my breathing had become, and how frightened and angry I was at the reason that a female came up in the box, so torn up and hopeless that she begged for death in the form of carving her pleas into flesh.

"Newt, hey shank, can you hear me?" Alby said swaying my shoulders a little attempting to jostle me out of my trance.

"Wh-why would they do that?" I looked Alby straight in the eye despite the trembeling of my voice.

"Why would they send her up - the creators, why would they send up someone so broken into.. into this place?" I asked with more desperation lacing through my voice.

"Look Newt... I honestly don't know, but right now, the best thing to do is to get her out of here, those cuts are deep and infection could set in if we dont have Clint or Jeff look at her right away," I nodded realising that theres more important and urgent matters to be dealt with rather than what kind of sadist the shucking creators were.

Just then it was as if everyone decided it would be a good oppertunity to start shouting about whatever the shuck was happening- the air was filled with:

"Is she dead?"

"Why'd they send a damn girl greenie if she ain't gon' give us none?"

"Aww damn and she looked so hot too!"

"Seriously, you guys are all slintheads, I mean look at her legs for shucks sake!"

"Alright you shanks slim it nice and calm, girl greenie ain't dead, just unconcious," Alby glanced over at me sec, just enought for a nod directed his way to confirm her condition due to the visible slight rise and fall of her chest.

"If none of you are gonna help get the shuck outta here, someone fetch the medjacks and then all of you pansies better get working or else dinner'll be cut in half," Alby commanded in that special way of his before moving over to me and eyeing the unconcious female with a slight squint.

Moving forward with soft steps, as if not to wake the newbie, I proceded to try and wrench the threatening dagger clasped between two soft looking hands, which, did end up being a slight struggle. Ably had to force the girls' fists apart as I removed 10 slender fingers from the hilt of the decievingly small blade.

After the whole 'make sure the greenie doesnt murder anyone or herself because we made the mistake of not taking the weapon before-hand' ordeal was over,without talking we both took aside and carried her a few centimeters above the metal floor trying not to move her about too much or allow her open wounds to come in contact with the rusty iron, before laying her back down in the center of the box where a few gladers above us were taking out supplies- one of them being Gally.

"Hey, hey Alby, Clints' on his way, ya need help getting her out?" Gally offered whilst he warily eyed the greenie with a hint of sympathy- completely different from his usual demenor of indifference and arrogance.

"Just tryna think 'bout how to get her out without harming her more."

Clint arrived a few minutes later, out of breath and with a shuck-ton of bandages and antiseptic, and probably a needle and thread somewhere.

I was squatting next to the girl searching her face for any explanation to what may have happened. All I could see were the features of a girl who had probably gone to hell and back only to be dragged into a place much worse when she looked like the type of teen to be seen with a caring boyfriend at her side and a bestfriend practically stichted at the hip- laughing, going out, working a Saturday job at a bookstore just for the hell of it. But she was here.

Her perfect, imaculate eyebrows and thick, dark lashes didnt belong here.

Neither did her small, lightly freckled nose.

Her serene lips, slightly pink and proportionate to her features also didnt belong here.

Long chestnut hair pulled into a braid resided over her shoulder, streaks of gold showing throught the sunny haze of the box shaft as the light swept over the bangs that covered her left eye.

There were boys here who no doubt would want to take advantage of the only female to ever reach the glade since we'd been sent up here, not to mention that she was considerably vunerable. The glade wasn't without its peacekeepers but its hard to say that we could keep her from all harm.

"-Prop her leg up using that crate and check for any injuries to the back of her thighs so I can treat those first,"

Alby did as instructed as I quickly realised yet again that i'd blanked out.

"Newt, could you inject her with this please- we can't afford having her go under anymore than she has, the blood loss is probably gonna leave her asleep for a while," Clint ordered handing me a syringe filled with an orange tinted liquid.

"Whats this?"

"Glucose, stops her sugar from dropping." I nodded, carefully maneuvering my hands around Alby and Clints' working figures, reaching the greenie's arm and injecting the syringe there. She flinched a little, a wince marking her sleeping face.

As Ably and Clint managed to clean up and dissenfect most of the wounds, I remained stony faced and silent throughout the whole ordeal, occasionaly tucking strands of hair behind the greenie's ear or running my hand through my own messy tuft of dirty blonde.

Clint had then decided that to avoid further complications with 'treatment' we needed to get the greenie into the medjacks hut- being sterile and all, well, as sterile as can be, that is.

Gally had been called over to help us lift the small girl out, releasing a grunt when he jumped into the box, bearing most of the weight on his calves as he didn't want to create a racket loud enought to wake the poor thing right out of her blood loss, and exhaustion induced slumber.

Me and Alby got out the box ready to take the greenie out of Gally's arms as he was tallest and most fit to the task of picking up the girl and lifting her over the top and handing her to me; once he did, Clint wasted no time in jumping out himself before leading us away to the edge of the gardens where the huts resided.

When actually on a medical bed, amongst other things like syringes, antiseptic, bottles filled with God-knows-what, the greenie looked so out of place and wrong that it almost made my heart ache, however, as Clint sat down and began to continue stitching up deeper wounds, me and Alby left him to his work before heading back out to the gardens only to hear almost every glader in this shucking place whispering and gossiping like school girls about the greenie.

For the sake of shuck, I hope she's going to be okay.

Sorry for any mistakes, thanks for reading ? ﾟﾘﾊ


	4. Welcome to the Glade

Chapter 3 yaaaaaaaaay!

This chapter is sorta long and maybe kinda boring but I tried to include necessary details and put in more dialogue so yea.

Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading

I don't own maze runner, if I did then page 250 in the death cure wouldn't have happened ?

Greenie's POV

Warmth kissed my face in a fuzzy haze of tender light beginning to reach my closed eyes. The red glow from behind my eyelids became increasingly distracting not to mention annoying as seconds ticked by, my mind giving into what seemed like natures' demands and cranking open one eye reluctantly.

My head, propped up on a lumpy pillow, swivelled round slightly as I began to take in the surroundings: a small, slightly open room, made from strips of wood woven together to create walls and a makeshift door, as well as a rickety looking desk lined along the entire expanse of wall to my right, covered in what I assumed to be medical equipment.

 _Where_ _am I?_ I question in a mild panic as I realise pretty quickly that I have no recollection of how I got here or who I even am in the first place. Trying to calm my racing heart and now slightly pounding head, I reassure myself that im probably okay. Sure, im in a strange hospital 'room' that looks like its about to collapse at any given moment, but that just calms my earlier panic; i'm sitting in a _medical_ room surrounded by _medical_ equipment- I've probably been involved in an accident, right?

Amnesia is the word that comes to mind. I can't remember me, or who I am, my memories are intact to a certain extent yet any personal details seem to vanish as soon as I try to grasp at them. I can remember mundane things like a shopping centre: grand fountains lining the entrance and hundreds of people parading around, showing off armfuls of heavy looking bags- yet, no shop names or brands seem accessible to me at the moment. I can remember the silky velvet fur of a cat, however it was no kitten that I recall ever having come into contact with. I can remember the adrenaline rush that settles in the base of my tummy every time I stepped onto a roller coaster, but I have no idea with who it was..

Pretty sure amnesia is the only logical explanation, although the term didn't quite seem to fit my 'condition.'

With an exasperated groan, I pull myself up into a sitting position crossing my legs underneath me as I do so, realising the action brought on severe pain in my thighs. Nevertheless, I complete the task to glance down and notice thick bandages wrapping themselves around the top half of my legs in tight, secure strands.

My voice shocked me as it came out in a hoarse whisper:"The hell?"

I surveyed the small room again before my eyes zoned in on a glass of water that my hands itched to grab, water seeming like a luxury at the moment- and almost as if without my permission, my left hand shot forward towards a small bedside cabinet aiming to snatch the glass residing above it. I aimed and missed.

The shattering of glass on the wooden floor sent my hands- the same ones that caused the sudden symphony of shattering shards- up to shield my ears from the noise that was almost deafening in comparison to the dead silence almost a second earlier.

Before I had a chance to even register what was happening (from waking up, coming to terms with what I thought was 'amnesia', seeing my injured body for the first time to shattering the only cure for my parched throat) a dark skinned boy ran in, panic and confusion evident on his dark face.

"The shuck happened?" He almost demanded, out of breath.

I hesitate a moment before answering, the last thing I want right now is for this boy to think i'm tryna' cause trouble.

"...That glass of water thought it would be funny to injure me and then give me amnesia before jumping, committing suicide so I couldn't blame it for attacking me."

...

Well done.

 _Very_ well done, idiot.

The boy gaped at me before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Damn didn't think any greenie had it in them to crack a joke as soon as they arrive- or in your case, wake up."

My face scrunches in confusion at the word 'greenie'. "Is my name greenie?"

The boy stops laughing slightly at my question only to burst out into a more hysterical fit right after he briefly glanced at what was probably a ridiculously stupid expression on my face.

"Nah, not your name, just the word we use and call people by until they can remember their own, or until the new greenie comes," the guy managed to get out between breaths, wiping a tray tear from his eye and calming down.

"So, here's the deal, my names Jeff and I'll get someone to explain everything to you soon as I can but first of all I needa explain to you this so you don't freak out on me later," he paused examining my reaction. I just nod for him to continue, my eyes probably wide from curiosity and interest. He nodded back and with silent words asked permission to sit at the edge of the bed to resume, to which I gave my consent.

"When you were sent up, you were... injured. We don't know how or who did it but once you take a look at what's under those bandages, you might be in for one hell of a shock, try not to freak out on us, please?" Jeff asked with sympathy laced into his voice. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion once again as I tried to think about what injury could be so bad that I needed to be warned in advance? Then suddenly a question gnawing at the back of mind surfaced.

"Do I have amnesia?"

With an amused glint sent my way, Jeff proceeded to explain that it wasn't amnesia but that's what he had to go and do now, get someone to try and explain this 'thing' to me.

Getting up and taking one final look at me Jeff asked "Is it alright if I leave for literally 2 minutes to find the guy in charge around here? We thought you'd stay asleep for at least another few days, so the other shank who supposed to look after you is busy and can't be here right now."

"What's the problem with leaving me alone..?" Suspicion tinting my voice. I could tell Jeff was trying to come up with a viable excuse however, I could see the something along the lines of distrust or concern waver in his eyes.

"The glass," he gets out eventually, standing up as he says so. "Are you positive I can trust you in here while I go and get Alby?"

Alby?

"Uhh, yea sure, knock yourself out," I reply remembering the broken shards discarded on the floor. Pretty. Like glittery ice.

"Please just stay there and don't move," is all I got before Jeff runs out sending me a concerned glance on the way.

"Weirdo. Honestly, you'd think I was a serial killer or something, the way he kept on looking at me." I mumble under my breath, a few seconds after his absence.

Well maybe I _was_.

No way to tell now anyway.

I lay back down on the uncomfortable bed, stretching my arms up above my head and thrusting chest out as I do so until I hear a satisfying 'pop'. _Serial_ _killer_ _my_ _ass. The only thing I should be convicted for, is my ass._ I pause for a second to twist my lower half round so that my eyes had access to my behind from this position. _Damn that is one fine butt,_ I thought before tearing my gaze away only to return to the mess of crystal like shards. The water that had resided within the cup had seeping into all the spaces between each individual piece, creating an unintentional masterpiece.

My eyes then further wandered to the ceiling made out of woven straw or something, when a glimmering caught my apparently easily-distracted attention. Scuttling across my line of vision was a little cross between a beetle and a salamander, with what looked like small wings tucked neatly on its back. The little bug was all silver and metallic in colour but a little flickering red light- like that of a camera- resided in the space where its head was.

Curious, I cautiously begin to sit up, and then attempt to stand up on the bed, testing out whether or my not my legs could hold my weight. Upon confirming that my legs can support me even with my mysteries injuries, I begin to reach my hand out to the pretty little bug. Upon realising what I was about to do, the bug stills its movement, giving me the false impression that it was doing so in a silent confirmation that it did not mind my presence. Trying to close the gap between it and me, I pull my hand back in shock, a barely concealed gasp being emitted from the back of my throat.

As I neared it, it's razor sharp wings unfolded slicing straight across my palm in a threatening manner, my right hand now clasped against my chest as if I could reverse the damage from happening in the first place. I watch in fascination and slight bewilderment as the beetle hybrid frantically crawls away.

Just at that point, whilst I was stood on the bed, my right hand clutched against my chest, staining the grey tank top I wore and a slightly oversized flannel shirt, that Jeff dude slams the door open, two unfamiliar faces behind him.

"-Listen, dude I know it looks bad but seriously give her a chance I-" Jeff stopped mid sentence as he laid his eyes upon me.

"Seriously girly? I thought I told you to stay there and not move, and what part of common sense like 'don't touch glass' do you not understand?" He snapped as his eyes landed on my still bleeding hand.

"What? I didn't touch it! It was that pretty beetle-lizard hybrid thingy that cut me," I snapped back with as much conviction as Jeff had, my expression no doubt turning into a pout by the end of my outburst.

"When she wake up?" One of the guys that had been behind Jeff asked- this one also had dark skin but shorter hair and an amused deep, calming voice (no doubt amused at me), which for some reason reminded me of an ocean.

"A few minutes ago? I don't know Al, I got you as soon as I realised she was awake." Jeff gently helped me down and took a look at my hand, deciding to sterilize it and bandage it whilst he continued to discuss with who I thought was Alby.

The other boy approached me- thin but muscular, tall, caramel- blonde and messy hair, a friendly look in his warm, chocolate eyes. And something else lining his sweet-looking face. Sympathy?

"Hey there, the names Newt," he introduced in what I could depict was a British accent, as I quite bluntly stared at him. He, or 'Newt', sheepishly scratched the back of his neck as he realised something.

"Oh right, you don't remember your name."

"Nope." I reply, popping the 'p' before another a question threatened to break out. "Jeff said he was getting someone to explain what happened to me..?" I break off my voice rising slightly at the end to form the query.

"Well, that depends. What do you want to know?"

"Why can't I remember anything?"

Slight hesitation before he answered:"The creators wiped your- and everyone else's- memories, the creators being the people who put us here. The only thing that you will remember about yourself is your name- that will come to you in the next few days probably."

"Hmmm, do you know what that shiny bug thing was?"

"Those little buggers are called beetle blades."

"Alright...do you know how I got injured?" A quick gesture was sent toward my thighs indicating what injury I meant.

"...No, we were hoping you were..."

"Okay... Am I a serial killer?"

A slightly astounded Newt gawked at me while trying and failing to hold in laughter. "Bloody hell, I really hope not!"

I nod in slight amusement, my nose scrunching in concentration, trying to string the next sequence of coherent words together to form my next thought. Newt only waits patiently somehow being able to tell that I was mildly disorientated with the new information. Jeff, finishing up work on my hand at this point, had apparently informed Alby of all there was and taken this as his cue to pack up and leave me and Newt alone.

"Where... where is 'here' exactly?" My voice taking on an edge of panic as I scan Newts eyes for an answer, realising that I didn't even know where I was.

"'Here', is the Glade," he responds softly, easing my fleeting emotions. "About a year ago we were all sent up into this place, no memories, no knowledge 'bout who put us here, nothing. But, this is our home, and it's yours now too, but it would be easier to show you," he answers calmly, holding his hand out and taking my uninjured one in his, tugging me gently through the wooden shack and what I assumed was outside- I couldn't tell, I was blinded as soon as we stepped through the door and Newt guided me down some rickety steps.

Once my eyes could focus enough, a sharp intake of breath forces its was into my lungs as I take in the sights around me; there was a great expanse of land with small supply shacks scattered all around the tree-line of the forest behind us and a plain field with animal pens and a few bigger buildings (including the one we just came out of) placed directly in front of our line of sight. Beyond the tranquil scene that looked like it had come straight out of a film, grey, concrete walls rose up into the sky, towering over the gorgeous community that I guessed people like Newt, Jeff and Alby had created. Ivy crept up the masses of crumbling stone towards a small opening in the middle of the two walls.

"Doesn't look like much but it's a pretty lively place when these shanks want to be," Newt informs me, a fond gaze gracing his pleasant face.

Lively

 _Lively_

IVY!

"Ivy," I whisper.

"Come again?"

"Ivy! My name is Ivy!" I exclaim, ecstatic at the new discovery.

A small chuckle escapes Newts mouth before he turns to me with his hand out in formal greeting, a tiny giggle coming out of my throat at the unexpected gesture.

"Well then Ivy, welcome to the Glade."

Hmmmmm, was this too descriptive or boring?

I think this was pretty long but I tried to get everything in this chapter- I didn't want to have to continue into the next one so I smooshed it all in these 2500 ish words ? ﾟﾘﾂ

Anyway, thanks for reading!


	5. Bonfire

YAAAYYYY UPDATEEE

Sorry it took so long, this chapter took ages and I kinda rushed the end, and because I was in a rush to update I haven't proof read it properly so again, sorry for mistakes!

I DONT OWN MAZE RUNNER, ONLY IVY

Ivy's POV

Shortly after I had remembered my name, Newt gave me a tour of the glade and informed me what jobs there and such, as well as explaining to the best of his abilities why we were sent here and even what some of the glader lingo meant. I listened patiently to the comforting sound of Newts voice as he guided me through the glade, before he took me to Alby to be questioned. Apparently this was standard procedure- every greenie was questioned about what they knew and whether they could remember anything. Alby had been doubtful of the claim that I didn't recall remembering anything specific like from before I woke up (which was apparently 2½ days) but after some guy called Minho entered the homestead to find me and Alby in a heated argument- tears in my eyes at the accusation of being a liar- he told the hot heated leader to lay off and "calm the shuck down."

Right now I was swinging in a hammock placed between two sturdy trees, in the middle of where the keepers sleep. There had been little room for argument as Newt said I should be close to trustworthy people just incase anyone tried anything during the night; not that I minded, I chose to sleep outside but that didn't mean I wanted to risk a desperate boy tryna make a move. That was also the other thing. I was informed that I was the first and only girl to ever come up in the box which was slightly concerning.

Suddenly a hand came out and grabbed my shoulder. I turned around, startled as I came face-to-face with Newt, who I hadn't even seen aproaching. "You alright?" Newt asks trying to disguige the laughter threatening to show in his voice. "Ya do know that I wasn't exactly being quiet, right?"

"Yea,sorry, I'm just...distracted is all. It sorta overwhelming ya know?"

"Don't worry, we've all been through the same thing you have, althought I must admit given your circumstances, you're doing a hell of alot better than any of these shanks did," he replies, casting a brief glance towards the bandages on my thighs.

"Yea and about that, why the heck won't you guys just tell me what these bandages are for? I mean I'm gonna find out soon enought so I don't get what all the secrecy is about." I don't understand why the issue bugs me so much, but knowing that they knew something that I didn't angered me- I barely know who I was and they're trying to keep me in the dark about a part of my past.

"Look love, you'll find out, but not now okay? Come on, you're supposed to be happy, we're having the traditional, infamous bonfire in your honour!" He exclaimed, an overjoyed grin breaking across his features, whilst he gently seized my hand (again) as I reluctantly bowed my head slightly in submission before I got up and followed after his figure leading the way to the bonfire.

It was slightly dark out as Newt and I emerged from out of the forest, walking- well Newt sauntered whilst I tiptoed anxiously behind him- towards a little ways beyond the lookout tower where the party was being held.

My nerves start to increase at an alarming rate which probably starts to show because Newt slows to a stop and turns around, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Whats wrong?" He questions as his face creases in confusion.

I pause for a second, gathering my thoughts and doubts before converting them into sentences. "What if they don't like me? I mean, Alby was practically about to rip my head off because he thought I was lying about my memories, whats to say the other boys won't react the same way?" I start fiddling with my nails, keeping my eyes firmly on the ground, waiting for an answer. I hear a deep, exasperated sigh, then Newt replies:

"Ivy, remember what I said before? About us all being a family?" I nod, my head still lowered. "Trust me, what Alby may have said or done was for the sole purpose of keeping us all safe, because thats what we do, we all look after each other. Hell, you may not even believe me but at least half of these shanks visited you whilst you were still unconcious- they care about you Ivy, just find it in your heart to give them a chance to prove it to you first before you start having doubts."

Well damn.

"You are ridiculously good with words and fuck you for making me feel bad about feeling bad, you ass," I grin, looking up at Newts face. "But, that doesnt mean I'm gonna be a social butterfly; I give them a chance but I'm not going out of my way to prove I ain't the devils incarnate." He grins in understanding before tightening his grip on my hand in a reasurring squeeze, and leading me towards a fuzy haze of glowing orange hues and the silhouettes of muscular boys.

After a few minutes of us comfortably strolling across the glade, we arrive at the scene of all the gladers laughing, dancing and joking- a scene filled with so much joy it made my heart ache and my throat tense. These boys had their lives taken away from them, yet they still found the time to rejoyce in something as trivial as the arrival of a new greenie; me.

Newt barely gave me anytime to wallow in the grief that I started to feel for these boys, before he dragged me off to a half empty log around the fire, occupied by Alby, and the guy who had helped me earlier- Minho.

"Sup shanks," Newt exclaimed in greeting as he took a seat, looking at me expectantly as he did so.

I look around slightly, anxiety pooling in the bottom of my tummy as I feel eyes boring holes into my body. I hesistantly take a seat next to Newt (and the place furthest away from Alby), on the ground instead of the log though, so that I could lean in closer to the enveloping warmth of the fire. The buzz of music and cheering faded in and out of my conciousness as I direct my entire attention to the elegant swirling of luminescent flames dancing in my line of vision. I don't know why but I feel like I'm drowning in the eerie feeling that I'm being watched, judged.

I can't help but speed my breathing up to compensate for the dread that starts to knot throught my stomach, tucking my legs under my chin, resuming my mindless, blank stare at the red-hot faded deep and gravelly voices I could make out, became nothing but a blur in the back of my hurting mind.

"Are you okay?" I jump, alarmed at the sudden question. A brief glance to my left reveals the previously occupied log to be empty; the three boys must have left and I probably didn't notice. I look up to see a tall boy with a defined face and dark, sandy hair- not to mention steeply arched eyebrows- standing over my hunched frame, concern flickering in his eyes. "You've been staring at that fire for around half an hour now, and quite frankly, you look like you're gonna cry. Mind telling me whats wrong?"

Just like with Newt, I only stared at the boy for an uncomfortable minute before he realised. "Oh sorry, I'm Gally," he introduced briefly as he sat himself down next to me on the ground.

"Ivy." I reply in an even briefer greeting, my small voice barely audible in contrast to the rest of the boys. I redirect my gaze onto the bonfire, feeling Gally's eyes on me at the forefront of my senses, screaming at me to turn my head around and adress him with more than just a half-assed intro. After a sigh and the sound of shifting beside me, I hoped that Gally might go away and enjoy himself rather than keep my sorry butt company, but as he readjusted himself into a more satisfying position, that hope quickly diminished. I did figure thought, he had given up trying to get me to answer his former question. Taking a new approach he asked:

"So I get that you have no memories, but do you know what you did for fun? Like what you enjoyed or something that you used to do, to kill time?"

Blank stare.

"What about drawing?"

Blank stare.

"Gardening?"

Blank stare.

"Cooking?"

Blank, colder stare.

"Cleaning?"

"Okay, thats downright stereotypical not to mention sexist!" I mumble under a barely concealed growl.

"Whoa calm it. To be fair you ain't helping and how am I supposed to know what 'girls' like!"

"Just take a look at yourself and answer." I retort, slightly proud of my sass.

"Oh wow shuck-face, real clever. But seriously, I don't know, what about music?"

As if without consent, my eyes widen, if only a fraction at the only humms in response, having noticed the small action, only to get up and walk away. So much for company, I think. The smell of burning wood was enough to satisfy my thirst for company, the crackle of embers splitting being the only conversation I'd like to emerse myself in. Not too long after, I find myself sitting only about 15 inches away from the flames, eyes closed and taking in the warm embrace on my face.

"Do you have a death wish?"

Gally.

"Do you? You seem pretty hell-bent on annoying the piss out of me." I snap back, eyes still closed, face unflinching, unwavering.

"Now, is that any way a greenie should talk to their superiors, especially after what I just got you?"

I crank open my right eye, curious to what Gally was talking about. Gripped in his left hand was the neck of a guitar, battered and dented, but a guitar no less. I lean back on my arms, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"You like music so, lets see if you can play," he answers, holding out the instrument in question towards me.

"Correction, I never said anything, you made an assumption and decided to 'cheer me up' or whatever the heck you wanna call this. For all you know I could have been a master at playing the bagpipes- and why on earth do you guys even have instruments?"

"Look princess, do you want to see if you can play or not? You might remember something!" He finishes that sentence in a ridiculous sing-song voice that I can't help but reach out my arm to take the intrument between my hands. I cross my legs beneath me as I position the body of the guitar across my still-sore thighs, resting my chest against the back of it. My fingers hover over the fret board, my other arm resting awkwardly at my side.

"What do I do now?" I question in anticipation.

Gally, taking a seat beside me, shakes his head in mock disaproval. "How should I know? You're supposed to be into music or something. Just put your hands anywhere and make a shucking noise."

Wow.

Much kind.

Such help.

Placing my forefinger on the second string, first fret, I strum with my other hand, wincing at the off-key sound. I place my middle and ring fingers on the second and third strings on the senond fret and strum again. The sound came out clear as day, ringing out in its minor glory.

"Was that an A minor chord?"

"Again princess, how should I know," a smile begining to creep into his voice.

Hesitantly, my ring finger goes up a string and fret. Another, happier sounding chord resonates from beneath my grasp. "C chord," I mumble. Positioning my left hand again, I strum with my right as a G chord followed by a D chord fill the quiet. I look up, noticing the odd silence, only to find the eyes of most of the boys staring at me. Gally senses my discomfort at being the center of attention and proceedes to scare the poor gladers by shouting: "What never seen another shank play a guitar? Thats right, turn your shuck faces right the way around before I pound them in."

I shoot Gally a greatful smile before turning back to my fingers, silently repeating the chordal progression.

"Bloody hell, I didn't know you play," a familiar British accent pipes up.

"Shank, she barely even knows that she did, how full of klunk are you?" A more unfamiliar voice appears, scolding Newt. Gally send me a look, asking whether he should leave or not. I shrug, not minding either option. He silently gets up, and makes his way back to the sand pit i'd seen him fight in earlier.

Newt and whom I now recognise as Minho, take up the seats on either side of me. Glancing at Minho, I breathe in before rushing out: "Thank you for defending me earlier, ya know, when Alby..."

"Don't even mention it greenbean!" A brilliant white smile flashed my way.

"My name is Ivy," I mumble.

"Oh I know, it's just that I like terrorising the newbie's!" I'm starting to wonder if that smile was one of sadism.

"Shut up slinthead." -Newt.

"Oh yea, or what?" -Minho.

"Or i'll shread your clean boxers when you need them most," -Newt and ewwww.

"I'd like to see you try ya daisy." -Minho.

"Says the guy who's practically gay, I mean look at your hair, you cannot say that any normal, straight male would have hair like yours." -Newt and BURRRNNNNN.

"You wish you looked at least half as good as me, I mean, how should I know what it feels like to look as feminine as you." -Damn Minho.

By now both boys had gotten up and began trading verbal insults in a more threatening manner. I know it was all for the laughs but I can't help but worry slightly. I place the guitar in my lap down, and stand up. "Hey, I really think you should sto-"

"Feminine? I'd call not being obsessed with myself like your nasty ass, not being gay," Newt snaps in outrage.

"Can you please st-"

"Im not the gay one, although with looks like these, I guess you wouldn't be able to help yourself," Minho retorts.

"Are you done?"

"Help myself with what? Tryin to not gag at the sight of you?" Newt laughs out.

"Can you stop now!" I almost shout. Minho hold an arm out infront of me, in an almost, 'do not go any further' gesture.

"Greenie, just sit over there somewhere and be quiet, girls shouldn't get involved."

Snap.

Hear that? It was the sound of my self control breaking.

I latch my hands around Minho's bicep before pulling his arm roughly into my side, the momentum flipping his body over and making him land painfully onto the ground below.

Newt backed away a few steps, obviously startled as Minho opened his dazed eyes. He locked his eyes with mine, my arms still around his, keeping him pinned to the ground, before he said, "I think I just fell head over heels for you."

I shit you not, a second before, you could hear crickets from the other side of the glade, but as soon as Minho spoke, he created an uproar of cheering and hysterical laughing. I untangle myself from Minho, dusting myself off and and getting up before holding a hand out to the boy, him taking it as he pulls himself up to stand.

"Next time, keep your sexist comments to yourself, kay?" I tell him in a deceptively sweet voice, an innocent smile forming on my lips.

"Note taken," he shudders.

"Well lets all take that as a warning not to mess with Ivy here," Newt comes over and announces, everyone chuckling in agreement or complimenting me on putting Minho in his place.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur, but what I can make out in the fuzzy time lapses is that after the whole 'beating up Minho' thing, the boys open up to me more. They seem to be more eager to include me in conversations, to share a joke or just ask a simple questions about me like what long hair feels like- one younger boy with spikey, maroon hair commented that it looked 'very pretty.' I'm not stupid tho. I realise that around 20 guys are still weary of my presence- to be honest, I would be too, but it didn't stop the hurt at the rejection.

Minho and Newt distracted me in stupid conversations about six packs and what the purpose of eyebrows were (earning a very pointed look from Gally) until I nearly fell into the fire from exhaustion.

The boys escorted me to my hammock before Minho went to his own a few trees away from mine. When Newt began to get into to the one literally half a meter away from my hammock, I stare in shock.

"Ummmm.. are you going to...like...here...?"

"Well duh, can't leave you on your own."

I climb into my makeshift bed before replying: "Seriously, I feel like a convicted murderer. You guys are always watching me."

"Is that so bad?"

Hmmmm.

"Depends."

"On what."

"Can I still shower without holding your hand?"

At this remark he blushes a violent shade of crimson, his eyes widening in embaressment. I laugh before turning on my side, facing the other way before muttering a goodnight.

Thanks for reading!


	6. What a Cyanide Surprise

Heyaaaa! Update yaaaaayy

This chapter is shorter than the last 2 and I cba to check it so probably filled with mistakes ? ﾟﾘﾂ sorry!

Btw the name of this chapter came from the song Sarcasm by Get Scared and I couldn't think of another name so there ya go! Go check it out, its really good ?

Thanks for reading and I dont own the maze runner series, only Ivy :)

Ivy's POV

The next morning comes to a blissful start followed after dreamless sleep. Supressing a yawn, I start undoing my hair from it's braid and running my hand through the thick strands a few times whilst climbing out of my hammock, hastily shrugging on a red flannel shirt (that I found out that Newt had given me when I was still unconscious) then proceeding to go to the outdoor picnic tables, where the gladers eats most of their meals. It was pretty empty out as I noticed most people doing their jobs- must've let me sleep in I guess.

I reach the little food hut where this guy called Frypan prepares and serves our meals. Upon spotting me he flashes a bright cheery smile.

"Yo Ivy, you're with today," a thrilled expression adorning his kind features at the prospect of having a kitchen buddy.

"Awesome," I reply, then hesitating a bit as I realise how ravenous I am. I've barely eaten anything since yesterday and my tummy decides to voice its view on the matter in the form of a rather disturbing- not to mention loud- wail. I smile sheepishly before asking "Do you have any food? I'm sorta starving."

I'm answered with a small chuckle before Frypan pulls out a battered, metal plate filled with two plump waffles. He hands them to me through the window-like opening in the hut and I begin to devour them, intoxicatingly sweet syrup starting to invade my palate.

"Didn't know you served diabetes here," I mumble around a mouthful.

"Eat with your mouth closed!" He scolds. I just smirk at his 'mother' voice and continue eating until my plate is practically licked clean, my stomach quieting in satisfaction. I hand Frypan the plate and walk around the side of the hut to where the entrance is, grabbing an old, fraying apron as I walk through.

Once my hands are washed and my apron is tied, I'm instructed to do simple things like "mix the soup" or "add more salt" but I didn't actually do anything. We were supposed to be making sandwiches for lunch and vegetable soup for dinner, yet the most exciting thing I've gotten to do is shred lettuce. I may look thick, but I sure as hell wasn't and the fact that Fry was blatantly keeping my work to a bare minimum was insulting.

I slam the bowl of lettuce down onto the counter top, startling a singing Frypan.

"Seriously? What's up with this?" I demand.

"What's up with what?"

"This," I gesture wildly at the poor lettuce. "Why can't I do anything? You have literally made me do jack this entire time and it's pissing me off!"

"Look Ivy, in the kitchen there's not much I can let you do. It's dangerous with the knives and all..." he trails off.

"And?"

"If you really wanna know ask Newt. All I can tell you is that the keepers have been instructed to keep you away from weapons of any kind." He tries to catch my eye, a cross between a grimace and sympathy smile marring his usually warm features.

"Fine." I reply, hostility clear in my voice. I spin on my heel and untie the apron from around my waist before storming out of the kitchen, and marching through the glade to the gardens where the trackhoes would be.

"Hey Newt," I bark out in a feral shout. I see his head poke out from in between the tall, lush vegetation. He stands up, his hand held out in a wave before he stops short, noticing the my fuming expression. I close the distance between us in long, robotic strides before stopping abruptly in front of his sweaty form.

In a concerned voice, upon my arrival, Newt asks "Is everything alright?"

I cut straight to the point. For some reason the idea of everyone trying to keep me away from 'weapons' really bugged me. It stirred a mixture of helplessness and unrelenting rage from within. "Why don't you guys trust me?" I spit out, annoyance prominent in my tone.

"Who said we didn't trust you?" Newt scrunches his face up at my question.

"Apparently the keepers have been 'instructed' to keep me away from 'weapons of any kind' as Frypan so _dearly_ explained, now, why would you need to do that?" I retort in a mocking voice, as if scolding a 4 year old.

Newt remains quiet, as if pondering over his answer.

I give him a few moments to allow him some space to respond, but after 5 minutes of dead silence between the two of us, I decide to break the quiet.

"This is about my injury isn't it?"

A small wince on his part confirms my suspicions before I notice the hilt of a machete attached to a leather sheath on Newts' back. Formulating a plan in my head, I start to back away slowly, my hands behind my back and a slight bounce in my step.

"Ya know..." I begin in a neutral tone, "If I am so clearly and openly distrusted, I could always, possibly..." _Pause_ _for_ _effect_. "Leave."

Don't get me wrong. I can be very attentive when I want to be, despite my easily distracted tendencies. I recall the argument between Newt and Minho and I know that beyond that narrow slit in the walls lies a maze- the answer to what was outside the glade was almost so simple, so obvious, that it was comical. However, I do realise that on my own, without food and water, chances of survival are pretty slim and believe me when I say, I have no intention of going out into the maze. I have an ulterior motive to this.

At my sudden statement, Newts eyes widen at the realisation of what I was getting at.

"I'm not stupid, I know about the maze- you let it slip yesterday- but taking my chances in there seems like a better option than staying cooped up in here." I taunt, feeling victorious at leaving Newt stunned and at a loss for words.

"You can't go in there! Ivy please, just wait, lets talk this out first," he pleads, seemingly glued to his position. "It's not that we don't trust you, we're just trying to do what's best."

I pretend to consider his words for a moment before spinning on my heel, as if to run. For my plan to work, I'd have to get closer to Newt, and to get closer, I have to get him to restrain me in some way.

Newt notices the action and before I can see anymore, I bolt out of the gardens, feeling and hearing his body sprinting after mine. My light, quick strides manage to stay ahead of Newts long and thumping gait, until I purposely begin to slow down, as if starting to feel tired. Regardless of the consequences (like being squished to death) I gradually continue to decrease in speed, just enough to look as if exhaustion is taking over, all the while panting more and more as I hear my pursuer get closer. Then, with no warning, the idiot actually jumps on me.

I'm tackled to the ground, Newt straddling my torso and pinning my arms above my head. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he says in a firm voice "Rule one, never go into the maze- I thought I made that clear."

I smirk playfully at him before responding in a voice completely contradictory to the cold one a few minutes before .

"Oh you did, believe me, I have absolutely no intention of going in there. But now I've got you where I want to!" I laugh a little before attempting the last phase of my 'plan.'

By thrusting my knees into Newts' back, I manage to stun him momentarily, enough for his grip on my hands to falter and for me to snatch his machete. I flip his body off of mine and roll away from him, gaining some distance between us. With the weapon secured in my hand, I hold it out in a threatening manner.

"Whoa, calm down!" The boy exclaims, his hands help up in front of him in submission.

"What's wrong with you! I get that I'm the only girl but this is going way too far."

I don't understand why I'm making such a big scene. They had only discussed and agreed on something based the possibility of me harming someone else, had I gotten a weapon- kinda like I'm doing now. But, the though alone of not having something to leave _me_ in control was suffocating. I _need_ the safety net. Without it, I may just fall far enough to not make it through my days here.

"Fine, we can change that. But right now, I need you to put the knife down." Newt approaches me like some kind of wild animal, his eyes alert, arm reached out in some sort of comforting gesture contradicting his feet on tiptoes, poised to spring into action.

I take a moment to decide. It seemed reasonable, but my stubbornness refuses to let me see reason. Its like looking at an already distorted image through a pool of muddy water. That's when I remember something important.

"I don't wanna put it down! And why the hell do I have this!" I scream hazardously swinging the blade in my hand around, pointing at my legs. Rage was taking over my body, my thoughts and feelings being brushed aside to make room for numbing, black hate. At this point, I wasn't in control anymore. I see some boys gathered a good distance off, out of my peripheral vision, probably to see what all the commotion was about. I couldn't seem to care though.

Suddenly, as if I was observing my own body rather than being in control of it, my hands jerk to the bandage on my left thigh, gripping the soft material and bringing down the machete onto it, resent and loathing prominent in my actions. The white cotton and gauze tear away with little resistance, the blade hacking at the fabric mercilessly. I wince slightly as I tear the bandage off of my flesh, tender skin clinging to strands of gauze before being ripped away.

I drop the weapon onto the ground.

My hands meet my mouth in shock as I struggle to breathe.

Newt dives for the machete before I have a chance to take it again.

My thighs are painted in a brilliant crimson, my otherwise unmarked skin acting as a canvas. Lacerations of every size litter my upper leg, crossing over each other and spelling out the same 2 words over and over again.

My breathing gets shallow and my head starts to spin.

I hear someone shout my name as I begin to fall.

But not before I manage to read the words inscribed, permanently into my flesh.

"Kill me"

That's when my vision darkens.

CLIFF HANGER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA ? ﾟﾘﾈ? ﾟﾘﾈ

I'll update soon as I can and thanks again for reading!


	7. Doors

Ughhhh this took so long to write!

I know this isn't the best and probably full of mistakes but I just want to post and I cannot be asked to proof read this all so enjoy hating my existence when you find errors.

This was sort of a filler I guess because I realised that I forgot to include Ivy's reaction to the doors, the rest of the chapter is just 'cute' stuff.

Anyway, hope you enjoy

OH BTW DID I MENTION, I MAY OR MAY NOT END UP GIVING IVY A FEW 'problems' such as a personality disorder or depression as a result of her injury, so yeaa

Thanks for reading!

I dont own TMR

 _What_ _a_ _cyanide_ _surprise_ _you_ _have_ _left_ _for_ _my_ _eyes..._

3rd person POV

A few hours after Ivy had blacked out, she had opened her eyes to find herself reacquainted with the straw ceiling of the medjack hut. Since the whole ordeal, Newt had refused to leave the poor girls' side, even for lunch. He stayed with her until she woke, in hopes of helping her cope in this new environment- he knew how hard it had been for most of the boys to adjust, yet, this was another task entirely. He helped her up before handing her a glass of water (not breaking it this time) and slowly bringing up the event of earlier in the day.

Upon Newt informing Ivy of where she was and what happened, she had refused to look him in the eye, or at her newly bandaged thigh for that matter, emotion similar to that of shame evident on her face. Ivy felt such a crushing weight on her chest. It was almost as if guilt was tearing at her, a suffocating feeling that made her want to scream out for her mother- has she even has one- or tear blindly at her hair, pain seemingly to help her focus on what the hell was going on. She wanted to distract herself from it- the drowning- and being her stubborn self, she decided to get up and walk out to resume her work with Frypan as she had done several hours before. She wasn't going to take no for an answer regardless of whether she could or not , but neither was Newt, so in compromise, he accompanied her to make sure she didn't do anything stupid.

Marching through the middle of the Glade to the kitchen rewarded her with more looks than she would otherwise be comfortable with. But, at that moment, she was too far gone too care. She didn't want to drown anymore than she had already, so the whispering and obvious chatter about her did little to falter her step before she had already reached the kitchen..

When Frypan noticed Ivy standing in the doorway- Newt behind her small frame- he graciously told them to enjoy the rest of the day, it was nearly dinner and he has almost finished. Yet, as stated before, Ivy wouldn't take no for an answer.

She robotically shrugged on an apron and proceeded to work along the cook in silence, plating up around 40 dishes. Newt had also volunteered, sneaking glances at Ivy every so often. She had noticed it as she was spooning soup into bowls, amusement and satisfaction showing on her otherwise blank face as she'd notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks at being caught staring.

After another half an hour of work in silence, gladers began lining up to get their food, ravenous after a hard days' work. Frypan thanked the pair before ushering them out, saying he could handle everything from here.

"Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?" Newt asks as he pulls Ivy aside.

She answers him with a monotone stare as his feature knot in worry. Truth be told, even she didn't know what she was feeling. This had to be a sick dream right? What kind of a reality was one where you were sent into a hellhole- no answers, no certainty, not to mention no girls- and on top of that, you come up with a mentally scaring injury that will remain engraved onto your body forever.

Newt decides right there that to get the girl to open up and trust him, he needs to be her shoulder to cry on. He gently tugs on her hand and begins to pull her into a dense patch at the edge of the tree-line.

"Look, I know you may not trust us but, if you ever need anything do not hesitate to talk to me, or any of these shanks," he states in a stern voice, emphasizing every syllable as he grabs Ivy's shoulders to force her to look at him. "Got it?"

She raises her eyes to meet and hesitates before confirming: "Got it."

After returning to her clouded façade, Newt sighs, scratching the back of his neck in exasperation before an idea popped into his head. "Hey Ivy...?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen the doors close yet?"

"The what?"

"Come on, I'll show you. It's what some of these sick shucks would call 'amazing'." He chuckles as he leads the way to the north slit in the concrete maze walls. Ivy (no pun intended) and vines were strung like streamers from the top of the stone, growing in thicker patches further along the main passageway. This was the first time Ivy has gotten this close to the opening- seeing the maze up close and personal was quiet intimidating to say the least. With long, dry grass coming up to her knees, and large, monotone walls surrounding her, Ivy seemed to drown in the setting, the glade swallowing her up with no mercy.

Immersed in her expectant staring, she raises an eyebrow at the boy beside her. Crossing her arms, she clears her throat before speaking.

"What am I looking for exactly?" The sarcasm was prominent.

"Give the poor walls a bloody chance! Can't expect them to close with you glaring at them like that!" Newt retorts back, mirth in his tone, and a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Ivy just 'hmphs' before turning her attention back to the 'doors,' a frown setting on her face.

"That look could kill a griever, flipping' heck- if you keep that up you'll have wrinkles by the time you're 20."

Upon hearing his half concerned statement, the slightly angered expression marring Ivy's face became less apparent as she struggled for emotional dominance. The quivering of her lip became more prominent and the tough time she had keeping her eyebrows down in a frown showed obvious signs that Newts exclamation almost had her in stitches. A small snort came out of the back of her throat making Newt look over, his own laugh ringing out clear and loud as he saw Ivy trying not to crack up. After giving up, they both fell onto the dry grass, hysterical fits of giggles erupting from the duo until they were literally crying from both the hilarity and pain they received from the lack of air.

After regaining her breath, Ivy started: "Oh yea asswipe? I bet you that I'm at least 20 times as pretty-"

The shaking of the ground underneath her stopped her retort short, the stone vibrating at such high frequencies it tickled her exposed legs in the most uncomfortable way possible.

"The heck is going-" She jumped up, slightly frantic at the thought of an earthquake before the two slits she was stood in front started to shift slowly toward one another, the horrible grinding sound of rock on rock resonating throughout the Glade. Sparks flew up where the walls made contact with the ground and screeched in protest.

Staring wide eyed, Ivy's breathing began to quicken as she forced her hands to meet her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the horrific, ear splitting sound. When the doors met each other in the middle, all noise ceased, leaving the entire place eerily quiet.

Mouth wide open, Ivy begins to stutter; "What the actual...? Did I just...?"

"Yup and yup," Newt replies with a smug grin.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Ivy snaps still slightly disorientated.

A few seconds pass by, silence passing over the two like an opaque fog. It lingers in the air before another fit of hysterical giggles and laughs erupt from Ivy. Again.

"Hey! Whats so funny?" Newt demanded, confused to the point of a scrunched up nose and knotted eyebrows.

"Nothing," Ivy manages to get out between breaths. "Its just... I'm so STUPID!" she exclaims.

"How the hell did I not realise that earlier? I mean, I've been here for around 3 days so how the heck did I not notice?"

Newt sighs at the girl in front of him, trying to stifle her hysteria at the revelation before smiling a little.

"Well, I don't know, but ya sure are an oblivious one aren't ya?' He chuckles.

"Mhm." she nods in agreement.

Ivy's POV (cuz I ain't bothered with 3rd person anymore)

A while after the doors closed, me and Newt just sat with our backs against the doors, talking about both everthing and nothing. I found out about his relations with the others, his favourite spots in the glade, his job, and MOST importantly; his favourite colour. It was orange. Well not orange, more like amber- the colour of the setting sun over the maze walls. It suit him more than I would think, the amber complemented his dirty blond hair and warm eyes to an extent where it might even seem ridiculously silly.

At the moment, we were talking about had we not been in the maze, what sort of job we would get in the real world. Well, more like arguing because I didn't agree that because he was British he would make an ''amazing' English teacher.

"It's called English for a reason! What dumb bastard would call it 'American' if the language is clearly labelled English- and that's all the more reason to have an ENGLISH teacher because clearly Americans need to sort their priorities out." (AN No offense to anyone, this has only been written for 'comedic' purposes)

I just gape at the strange logic Newt has. "What does that even mean?" I ask dumbstruck by whatever the... shuck(?) had just happened. Oh and I've also picked up some of the slang they use around here. Proud of me? I hope so.

"I can't even, I literally just. No. What? I just cannot, like, just no." I mutter, shaking my head disapprovingly.

"What? Your just jealous because my job is cooler than yours."

"You wish."

"Since when was murdering children a cool job?"

"It's not 'murder,' it's just making children suffer because they are snobby brats."

"There are two types of PE teachers in this world; actual physical education teachers, and then you.." he states rather pleasantly.

I just smile at his antics before leaning a head on his shoulder, gazing rather fondly at the grass and weeds tangled around our legs. The moment doesn't last long however as a distant shout is heard from our right. I lift my head up to catch a glimpse of who was calling us.

"Yo princess! We got something for ya!"

Gally.

"Yea and you better show your shuck face cuz I nearly got klunked on to help steal this for your shuck ass!"

Minho.

"My ass is gorgeous thank you very much!" I shout at the latter whilst getting to my feet, earning a handful of stares and supressed chuckles from around the court field.

I help Newt up, offering my hand which he takes without complain. Looking over, I see a smirk on his face directed at the two guys making their way over to us. When they reach a distance where we could talk without us having to scream at each other, Newt starts "Which one of you shanks thought it was a bright idea to announce stealing something in front of the second in command?"

Gally and Minho's faces pale considerably, Minho squirming under Newts gaze, trying to hide whatever was behind his back from Newts glare.

"It was for a good cause, we're trying to be nice to the greenbean!" Minho whines like a 5 year old.

"And like she said, the girl has a 'gorgeous' ass so it would be a shame not to make sure it ain't a happy ass-OUCH!" He yelps as the builder jabs him in the side with his elbow, annoyance spelled out clearly on his face.

"What he means is, he's a shuck-faced piece of klunk and Ivy, even though you haven't had the best start, you're one of us now. Whether you like it or not greenie, your stuck with these shanks," he says playfully, punching my shoulder lightly as he talks.

"Never thought I'd see the day when The Captain would go soft," I hear Newt mutter quietly behind me.

Minho laughs out at the sudden remark before pushing a bundle of fur in my face. Literally. A ball of brown fluff. He shoves it into my chest and I wind my arms around the thing. I gasp in adoration when I realise what it is. Squealing loudly, I readjust my grip, securing one hand underneath the little animal and an arm around the outside.

The stole a little bunny.

For me.

"Oh my gosh it so cuuuuuute!" I squeal even louder running my hand over the little things' soft fur, the different hues of brown blending together beautifully every time I stoked its back.

I look up at the faces of the boys, and I see that Newt and Minho have backed off slightly-probably because of the volume of my screaming- and Gally remained where he was, smiling at me with a brotherly sort of fondness.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic. My chest swelled with unrelenting joy at the warm mass of cuteness squirming in my grasp. The fact that the two boys even risked getting in trouble for me of all people, made me want to go and shout how happy I was at them, for days if need be, until they understood just the extent of my emotions.

I walk over to Newt, pushing the rabbit into his arms as I do so. He greets me with a questioning glance before I throw my self at Gally, winding my arms around his neck in a thankful embrace.

"Thank you so much!" I whisper into his ear before letting go.

"Hey, where's my hug? Remember, I almost got klunked on!" A whiny voice moans.

"Fine." I sigh.

I walk over to Minho, fake exasperation on my face, opening my arms out for a hug. As soon as he walks into my embrace, I duck under his arm sticking my tongue out as I do so.

"Hey! No fair!" He replies with his back still to me.

I laugh jokingly before jumping on his back and hugging him from behind. Although I have to admit, from this position, I may have been choking him.

"Love ya too," I stop for a second before I add "Shuck face."

He brings his hands under my thighs so I don't slip off, almost tentatively positioning me. I readjust my grip on his neck, opting to hold onto his shoulders instead.

"But no, seriously, thanks. I mean it." I say, leaning into his back.

"Watcha gonna name it then?" I hear Newt ask.

"Lets name it Minho!"

"NO" a chorus of disagreement follows.

"Fine, I never liked that dumb bunny anyway."

"You're the one that chose it."

"So?"

"Whatever."

"Shouldn't you let Ivy pick?"

Newt and Gally look at me expectantly, awaiting my grand decision.

How am I supposed to know what names are suitable for bunnies? Hmmm I guess it did have really pretty fur. A nice colour too. Like Newts eyes. Should I name it Newt? Ew no that's creepy! The chestnut hues reminded me of chocolate. Warm, rich and thick. So irresistible that you can't help but get lost in the sight of it.

"What about cocoa?"

Smiles were sent my way before Newt replies:

"Cocoa it is."


	8. Authors Note

HellOoooooOoOoOoo

Okay this is a stupid authors note and not an update (sorry!)

I'll update tomorrow or maybe Saturday but I just wanted to ask, if its not too much trouble, could I get a few more reviews please? This is sooooooo dumb to admit but I'm sorta stuck with how to continue chapter to chapter, I have the general gist of how I want this story to go but actually planning out what I want to write is becoming more difficult as I go on and I DEFINITELY don't want to discontinue this story- any idea's would be much appreciated no matter how 'far fetched' or 'fluffy.'

Like I said before, sorry that this isn't an update, but thank you so much for reading my story so far!

Byezieesss :)


	9. Can I keep my razor?

Yo, sorry for not updating in a while, I just couldn't be asked to write þis chapter and like usual, I haven't proof read it so have fun finding all the mistakes.

Okay in the next like 1 or 2 chapters I might start making it a little more dark- so far all I've written is cute/ fluffy crap and to me I feel like the story is going really slow, so if the pace isn't fast enough, feel free to say so.

Ive also noticed that whenever I post a chapter I end up finding mistakes that are less spelling and more 'autocorrect wants to ruin my life' so please ignore those cuz I cba to change them

I don't own maze runner, only Ivy, and now Alex.

Ivy's POV

Its been two weeks since I've arrived at the Glade and I've adjusted pretty decently. Shortly after my 'present' from Gally and Minho, I got to carve my name into the north wall, an appropriate sized etching spaced just under Newts name. During those two weeks, I've been appointed a job; at my work experience with the builders, cooks, trackhoes, and medjacks, its become pretty clear that I was more than capable in multiple fields. It also became apparent that I couldn't under any circumstances work as a slicer. Embarrassingly, 10 minutes into the job I'd broken down, hysterical and crying because Winston had killed a lamb to demonstrate what I had to do. I was excused from the slicers that day because of my refusal to hurt any of those poor, innocent animals. From then on, the keepers decided my role as a medjack which I was quite content with- they had also agreed that when I wasn't tending to anyone, I could help out with any of the other jobs, but I preferred to stay in the animal pens with bunnies and sheep to keep me company.

At the moment, I was sat on a small stood in he medjack hut, rubbing antiseptic cream onto the nearly healed cut on my hand from the beetle blade that had sliced it open when I had woken up (AN I had totally forgot about her hand ? ﾟﾘﾞ.) Work was pretty chill and slow. Not many gladers needed to be tended to but when they were, Clint had told me it was either something as mild as a splinter or a fatal, life threatening injury- there was no in between. Oh, that was the other thing, I also met Clint (who was pretty chill too) and we clicked instantly. He was fun to be around when he wasn't covered in the blood of dumb shanks who managed to nearly decapitate themselves making a sandwich.

I'd become pretty close with Newt and Gally- he was like my older bro, whilst Newt was like the sister I've never had. No, seriously, he will literally do anything to keep me happy at all costs. Apparently, being the only girl in the Glade was tough, so he felt that it was his duty to be there for me- not that I was complaining, I found it sweet. And then there was Minho.

Such an angel.

Such a beautiful, _beautiful_ angel.

I wonder if it hurt when he fell from heaven, probably because they wouldn't let him stay there because he's horrible.

I bet one day he may actually succeed into sassing his way into hell.

But I can't deny his hair is ridiculously amazing and fluffy.

Me and Minho, I hate to say it but, I think he may just be one of my best friends- after my sister though. Bro's before hoes they say. My sister Newt is the 'bro,' and Minho is the 'hoe.' I've also gotten close with some other guys; when I wasn't with Newt, Gally, Clint or Minho, you'd find me with a dark haired, blue eyed boy called Alex or the greenie before me, George.

Both of them were builders, so it was pretty hard to hold a 'safe' conversation. At some point during my builder session, I had made Alex laugh so hard that he missed the nail he was trying to hit and ended up smashing the hammer into his fingers. I'm not exactly welcome by the builders anymore unless Its during their break. But that's never stopped me before so I stand up, packing away the antiseptic before taking a quick once over around the empty hut, making sure everything was in its place.

With a satisfied nod, I start towards the door, with the intention of annoying the hell out of Gally. Pushing the slab of wood open (it was a very sad excuse for a door) I step out into the open air, the rays of sunlight attacking me and leaving me momentarily blinded. The sun was always really bright for some reason. In my memories is seemed less so- my selective memory loss could be quite baffling at times. I squinted slightly as I take in for the hundredth time the monstrous walls around the glade; it had only taken about 2000 questions and conspiracy theories to come to terms with there being a maze around us, not to mention the things called grievers that we hear screaming at night. Mentally shaking myself, I continue onwards past the gardens where about 15 guys were hard at work, and a little further along the lookout tower. Spotting the figure of the large builder, my calm walk accelerated into a full on sprint. I fly past some of the others with the full intention of pissing the Captain off.

I launch myself from mid-step onto his back, arms clinging to his shoulders as Gally struggles to regain his balance.

"Hiya Captain!" I exclaim into his ears.

"The shuck! What the hell, I though you weren't allowed here!" he shouts back, throwing me up slightly so he can position his hands under my now exposed legs. Along with my hand, my thighs were also healing so the bandages were taken off, now all that remained were slightly red- though deep- scabs.

"Well, its not an official rule so lets just ignore that! I'm booooooored," I drawl out, emphasising the "bored."

"Then sit over there and shut up shank," he laughs.

"Fine."

I pout as I jump off him and march over to a log near Gally. Crossing my arms, I start looking around for something to do whilst he continues to make what looked like a shack thing?

"Hey Gally?"

"No."

"Awww... okay."

Awkward silence.

"Hey Gally."

"I said no."

"But this is different!"

"But I said no!" he replies, mocking my tone.

"But-"

"No buts."

"Ugh Gallyyyyyyyyyyy!"

"I ain't even gonna talk to you anymore."

"Galley, Galileo, Captain Gally, Gal Gal!"

All he does if stare intently at the hammer in his hands. So he was being serious about not replying. Well then. I stand up and begin jumping up and down at every word that comes out of my mouth.

"Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally, Gally!"

No response except for the slight twitch of his eyebrows.

Fine then.

Slightly disheartened I go around the crappy shack and start looking for Alex or George. I spot them a few metres away behind a couple of trees trying to chop down the thinner, weaker ones.

Creeping up behind them, I prepare myself for a jump scare, bending my knees and taking in a silent breath, getting ready to scream a loud 'boo.'

"Do you really think that a good idea?"

I jump a meter back, frightened and ridiculously confused. My eyes widened in shock as I my hands were spaced in front of my head, as if to prevent an oncoming attack.

"Hey, are you okay?"

As I lower my hands, I notice both George and Alex staring at me, both confused expressions adorning their faces. As I regain my bearings, I realise it was Alex who spoke, questioning whether my former motives were a good idea.

"Oh what? Uh I mean yea totally," I break off, laughing nervously at the end. I slowly unbend my legs and lower my arms out the way as I lean on a tree, trying to look casual.

"Well if you say so, you did look pretty scared." George states.

"I'm fine, hmph, you two ruined my scare!" I snap.

"No, Alex saved you from being roundhouse kicked in the face because you thought that scaring two dudes with _axe's_ would be funny." George smirks

"No kidding, who even let you here?" Alex sighs, smiling at my antics.

"I did. Problem?"

"Yes actually, go back to Gally before you die an 'oh so tragic death'."

These two are bullies. I quietly sigh before allowing Alex to guide me back to Gally, George resuming work whilst a defeated expression makes its way onto my face.

"That was a pretty dumb move, you know that right?" he asks, glancing at me from the corned of his icy coloured eyes.

"Meh" I reply weakly. The scare and seems to have left me in shock for some reason.

"Seriously, Ivy are you okay. I'm sorry for scaring you. I didn't realise you spaced out enough to not notice me turning around."

"Oh no don't worry about it, it's fine." I reply. Truth was, I was sorta shaken up. But I wasn't about to admit that.

"Hmmm... want me to get Newt?" he smiles.

"Now why would you want to go do that for? Leave the poor girl alone!" I smirk in amusement.

"Because we all know about you guys!"

 _Dafuq? Know what?_

"Huh?"

"Ya know, like..." he starts making kissy faces at me, smacking his lips together in the most vile way possible trying to imitate French kissing.

"Ewww dude, gross!" I smack his arm in an attempt to draw his attention away from Newt. At this point, we had already reached the area Gally was working in, we'd just stop to talk.

"Whatever." he laughs before shouting over "Hey Gally, seriously, whenever Ivy's here, you need to control the chick!" he states with a disapproving shake. The sudden shout grabbed the builders attention, making his pause for a moment, emitting a small chuckle before continuing to hammer nails in place

"Excuse me, if I was meant to be controlled, I would have come with a remote," I shout at both of the boys. "You two are so mean," I exclaim, trying to force a smile as I do so.

"The girl has a point," Gally starts, leaving me grinning triumphantly and smugly at Alex before Gally continues: "It is our sole responsibility as builders to provide and make everything we need for the Glade to function. Therefore, our new project will be to make a remote to control Ivy." Ugh these boys are such asshats.

"I can't even be asked to deal with you shanks anymore," I sigh wearily as I leave Alex's side and opt to lay down in a comfy looking patch of grass instead. I melodramatically lift my hand to my forehead before flopping onto the ground.

"You're such a drama queen," Alex snickers.

"Excuse me shank, I am a princess, now bow down before me," I mumble, eyes forced shut to block out the harsh glare of the sun.

"Oh yea princess," Gally mocks, "the box came up today, the creators sent you a few... things..."

"Nice, like what? There better be candy floss."

"Go check yourself, its in that black crate over there," he says, nodding in the direction of the crate. I look over to where he's pointing to see a decently sized box, matte black in colour and about the size of a suitcase.

I state a quick 'thanks' before walking over to the chest, it only being 20 meters or so away. Upon reaching my box, I notice Alex behind me (probably followed after me but me being me, didn't notice him), eyeing the crate with suspicion.

"Yo, dude, what did it ever do to you? No need to stare at it like it ate your nipples," I tell him as I lift the top off.

"You really need to watch your shuck mouth Vi, I just wanna see what they sent you is all. Need to make sure about weapons..." he trails off, obviously worried that I'd lose it like last time. I just laugh under my breath scanning over the variety of items in the metallic crate.

"If there were any weapons in here, i'd be sure to hand them over on a silver platter... or one of Frypans' nasty plates, whichever I can get my hands on I guess. But seriously, all you guys act like you have forks stuck up your arses when it comes to me and blades. Whatever happened before the maze, happened before the maze. I'm not stupid, I know your all worried because of these cuts or where-ever the hell they came from- but that's not me _now_ so chill." I finish off, smiling slightly at the unanimous concern most of the gladers had. I take in the items in the box, running my hand delicately over each one.

The creators had sent up a few clothes, covering most of the necessities; several tank tops, another 3 pairs of shorts, one pair of camo jeans and 5 matching sets of bra's and underwear. Upon spotting a lacy black sports bra underneath the folded jeans that were placed on top, I feel my face flush red at the sudden realisation the Alex was still looking over my shoulder. The bra was just so _big._

I stare at my chest. It's a decent size. C or maybe a D. But oh my shuck they sent me such big bra's. **Oh** **my** **shuck**. And they were _lacy_ too!

"My boobs aren't _that_ big," I whisper feebly.

Alex, obviously hearing, burst out laughing at my awkwardness. How the hell wasn't he fazed?

"What's wrong with you! I could fit 2 melons in there, and quite frankly, regardless of my memory loss, I know that wearing bra's like three times bigger than your own boobs is shucking uncomfortable!"

"It just that your expression is... I can't... oh my shuck I can't breathe." he pants between his giggles (how tf do boys even giggle?) Alex calms down before continuing. "I doubt I've ever met a girl who's been so embarrassed by underwear."

"Yea but," I fish out a random bra before throwing it at his face. "Look at it! That won't fit! Its so big. And... blinding.."

He peels the fluorescent green bra from off his face before rubbing his eyes. "Well, you got that right. Bet this could blinds a griever."

"Yea no kidding!"

I force the heat from my face to cool before resuming looking through the crate. I find a pair of worn combat boots and 3 pairs of black socks. Rummaging right to the bottom, my fingers brush against some toiletries such as a stack of pads, some shitty looking organic shampoo in a metal pot, a plain metal razor and a silver canister of what I assumed to be deodorant.

"It looks like its my birthday!" I exclaim sarcastically. "A really shit birthday though- couldn't they have just given me birth control tablets, periods suck."

"Mhm, just for the periods right," Alex taunts.

"I mean, if you wanted a piece of this then it would suck even more if I got pregnant. Imagine being the dad. I'd shucking torment that shank for years," I say seriously, shaking my head.

"You're such a ray of sunshine aren't you?"

"Very. By the way, can I keep the razor?"

"...Possibly."

"What conditions?"

He pauses a moment before smirking evily.

"Tell me who you like."

I just laugh.

"Okay then, I like you, I like Gally, George, Newt, Minho, Ben, Frypan, Clint, Jeff, Justin, Winston kinda-"

"You know that's not what I meant."

I laugh again in disbelief.

"Why would I tell you? I can live without the razor." I retort.

"Fine don't tell me." Alex says before taking in a deep breathe and shouting "GALLY, IVY HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!"

"Keep shouting, he knows you're bullshitting." I state unimpressed. All Gally does is look over to us, and flip Alex off.

"Hmmm, not him then. ALBY, IVY WANTS TO MARRY YOU!" At this point Alby was nowhere to be seen, but a faint 'shuck off' could be heard from the homestead.

Looking over at my annoyed 'are you done?' expression, Alex breathes in once again before shouting " NEWT-"

His sentence stop short as I tackle the fucker to the ground and clamp a hand around his mouth. "Fuck you too shank!" I whisper harshly. We hear a distinctive British accent shout a 'what the shuck do you want?' from the gardens, Alex wiggling his eyebrows at me before I shout back "NOTHING."

"I really hate you."

He obviously couldn't reply due to my hand, but instead he runs his tongue along the inside of my palm in reply. I jerk away from his face at the sudden moist spit covering my hand, wiping it furiously on his shirt.

"Ewwww dude, you're gross! Oh my shuck I hate you so much"

Alex just gets up and grins at me before saying:

"Love you too!"


	10. Almost a year

Hiya, sorry for not updating in a while I just couldn't think of anything to write. So this chapter is kinda a filler cuz I started writing the one after this one first but then I was like I need something in between so its not such a dramatic change of mood.

So yeaaa... meh

I dont own Maze runner, if I did then the entire story would be about magical unicorn grievers who hug you to death if you ever get stuck in the maze :)

Ivy's POV

Stroking Cocoa and swinging slightly in my hammock, I direct my attention to Newt, focusing back to our current discussion on topic; the maze. So far, it was a pretty one sided conversation consisting of me asking and him responding.

"What about climbing to the top?" I ask as he hums in thought before shaking his head.

"The vines aren't strong enough, I'm pretty sure if we try climbing up then the ivy would just snap."

I pause for a second before replying. "Yea but, the vines are thicker in the maze aren't they?"

"Yes but as I said before, if we all tried climbing them, they would snap. And anyway, even if we did get anyone to the top of the maze walls, then what? There's no guarantee that the exit to this hell hole is up there." He states smugly. I stare at his expression for a few seconds, wondering bout how he knew so much about the vines.

"How do you know so much about the vines?"

He chuckles before saying "When the first group of Gladers came up, we tried everything we could with the little courage we had. We tried climbing up the walls, waiting for the box to go back down, obviously the maze, and a bunch of other stuff- whatever you can think of, we've already tried. At that point, we realised that the only way out, has to be through the maze. It's one hell of a massive bugger, and a pain in the arse at that, but it is the only way out. So we gotta keep mapping it until the day comes when we find the exit."

I suppress the urge to let my jaw drop. How _long_ have they even been here? I would go crazy long before any leads to the exit are found. Well, being stranded in the middle of a maze with no connection to the outside world may already be taking its toll on me.

"How long have you guys been here?" I question, genuine concern laced into the undertone of my voice.

Newt pauses for a second, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, contemplating whether or not he should tell me. Finally making up his mind, he breathes out "almost a year."

My breaths stop.

Almost a year.

A _year._

Were we supposed to live and die in the glade? What if we are never even _meant_ tomake it out? What if our days are numbered, and dying here is the whole purpose of the maze; to give us false hope.

Oh my goodness.

"-breathe Ivy! Stop scaring me!"

I jumps at two sudden hands shaking my shoulders and a face so close to mine that I have to cross my eyes to see. I suddenly become aware of the still bundle of warms held in my lap, and two strong arms around my shoulders forcing me close to Newts face. I realise I held my breathe at the statement, and my throat screaming for air. I open my mouth and allow oxygen to flood though, taking short, shallow breaths.

As my breathing begins to even out, Newt slowly lets go of my shoulders and squats in front of me so that we're eye level.

"What the bloody heck was that all about?" he questions, a slight tremor in his voice.

I open my mouth only to close it again, a thousand thoughts drown out any comprehensible sentences that could flow out right now. I don't know how to respond. All I do is shake my head at Newts question and give him a slight shrug. His shoulders sag slightly at my reluctance to answer him, but he recomposes himself and goes back to sit on his hammock.

I start to open my mouth again, trying to banish the foreboding fears from my mind. "Were you a runner?"

At this Newt smiles slightly, almost proud. "As a matter of fact, I am."

I raise an eyebrow.

"But, aren't you a trackhoe?" I ask.

He smiles again as if happy that I've not shut him out completely. "See, there are about 10 runners but we only need around 8 to map the maze. We have a rotation which gives us something like a 'mini' break. Right now I'm on mine but after the new greenie comes then I'll be back to runnin'."

I nod in understanding, but that doesn't mean I accept it.

"What if you don't make it before the doors close?"

Newts face goes cold.

"We've been over this before."

"Yea I know, but what happens exactly?" I ask, more persistent than ever.

A reluctant sigh escapes his mouth before he starts to explain. "Well, no one has ever seen one, but the grievers tear apart any poor shank that manages to get shut out of the Glade. Of course, apart from the banishing', we rarely loose gladers to the maze but once we find their bodies'... " he pauses a little, "lets just say its not a pretty sight."

At this, I unconsciously hug Cocoa closer, the little fluff ball squirming at my tightened grip. Newt notices the action before stopping short whatever trail of thought he had and changing the topic.

"Hey come on, lets go and get some food from Fry," he tells me, holding his hand out expectantly.

Truth be told, I really didn't want to do anything at the moment. The sinking feeling from earlier returned and I was once again drowning in thoughts that threatened to burst out of the mental dam I've created to keep my chaotic brain ordered. I try and force a small smile at Newts request, showing him that I was acknowledging his kind offer, but all I need to do is stay here and try not to fall apart.

"Nah, I'm good. You can go ahead though, I think i'll just stay here," I reply back weakly.

Newt narrows his eyes at me, clearly not convinced. He slowly exhales a sigh before running a hand through his hair. I bring Cocoa up my chest and let her burrow into the crook of my neck, her small body radiating the only comfort that I can feel right now. My entire body seems tense and on edge, especially more so at the fact that Newt wasn't replying.

Another sigh draws my attention, before Newt says "Tell ya what, how bout I leave you be right now, and come check up on you later? You'll miss lunch now but I can bring you dinner if you're up for it," he asks me, considerably and subtly giving me some space to sort out my brain.

I nod a small thank you, lowering Cocoa as I do so, the small bunny trying to scramble back up to use my neck as a perch. I hear Newt mutter a quick 'see ya later' and I put Cocoa on the ground, allowing her to go where she pleases. I just lay back into my hammock, dangling my legs over the side and swinging the bed a little. My face takes on a small grimace whilst thinking of how long everyone's been here; how long they've had to survive in this god forsaken place.

I can't do this. How are me meant to find a way out- if there even is one. I can barely cope with this new info let alone act on it and try to escape.

Maybe if we just refused to search anymore, then whoever put us in here might release us? Possibly.

Probably not.

I flutter my eyes closed trying to quiet my negative thoughts, all of them screaming for dominance. I start to feel my throat close up slightly and my chest swell with laboured breaths as I curl in on myself, cocooning my body in a thin blanket.

Another surge of screeching, violent thoughts later, I clamp my hands around my ears willing the sound to go away. Trying to force the darkness out of my mind and the oncoming migraine to fade away, I start to doze off, dreading the moment I wake up again.

I just finished writing this and just ugh this is legit my least favourite chapter its just so UUUGHHHHH

anyway, sorry if it was boring, like I said, I just need a small transition to be able to show the change of mood into the next chapter.

Anyways thanks for reading

Baaiii


	11. What's wrong?

Yoooooo, sorry for taking so long writing this chapter!

So like I said before, this chapter is gonna be darker than the rest but dont worry, not all of them are going to like this- I'm gonna try and have a mixture.

And I now realise that I'm posting this at 1.36 AM, well deal with it. I'm too impatient to post this in the morning XD

I don't own maze runner, only Ivy and (Alex probably) and idek about George, I think there was a George somewhere in the books... or maybe an Alex too..

Meh idk I'm really tired rn, enjoy this chapter, sorry for mistakes

I gently strum an A minor chord as I hum along quietly to a non-existent melody. A faint breeze tickles my skin and makes the hair framing my face dance in the wind. Today, like most days, was a bright and humid day, the unrelenting sun doing little to help the exhaustion most of the gladers must be feeling right now. Thankfully, I'm sat under a large oak tree far into the deadheads, shielded from the harsh glare of the sun through a thick canopy of leaves. Within my lap lay one of the guitars that were used during celebrations such as the bonfire. I've been here for a total of around 3 weeks so far. I was no longer considered the 'greenie,' I was considered Ivy, the one and only girl who somehow managed to put a smile on everyone's faces. The title left a sentimental hole in my heart, the sweetness of it leaving me breathless. It was without a doubt one of the best things that have happened since I've been sent here (apart from finding out that those massive bra's actually fit me) yet as time goes on, I find myself having to force a smile more often, fake a cheery laugh, sass myself a funny comeback all to avoid looking weak.

Am I weak?

I don't know.

During the past few days its really dawned on me the gravity of this predicament. I'm not living with my family; I live with a group of guys in this field thing, where we go to sleep every night in a forest- our beds are hammocks. Our mum doesn't cook our dinner. A boy called Frypan has to do it because no one else can. We don't go to school- we spend all day every day working to keep our society functioning. We are a group of teenagers, our lives have been taken away from us by some sickos who call themselves WICKED. If the name alone was enough to scream 'run,' then all of the above should have any sane person nightmaring for the next few weeks.

A weary sigh makes its way past my lips as I lean my head back against the rough bark of the tree. Laying the guitar down next to me, I bring up my knees and lace my fingers together, a headache starting to form from between my chaotic thoughts.

What person had the right to fuck up my life, or anyone's for that matter?

Resting my head on my knees, I start cursing under my breath. Cursing WICKED. Cursing the maze. Cursing myself.

Ever since finding out about my scars, I've been especially sceptical as to why past-me would do such a thing. I still have no clue, but really, who am I kidding? There's no doubt that I did this to myself before my memories were completely erased. Anyone who tried to convince me otherwise is obviously doing so in the hopes of giving me false hope that I'm not a complete wreck.

Truth is, I was, and I still am.

I'm crumbling under the pressure. The non existent pressure that's forcing me to my knees and knocking the air out of my lungs. Existing right now is just so hard.

I have no idea what's brought this on, just yesterday I had been joking around with Minho and Ben, immersed in a heated discussion about Minho's dimples, and now, I'm a snivelling wreck. I stifle a scream caught in my throat before taking a deep breath, willing the lump in the back of my throat to loosen up, and the stiffness of my muscles to relax.

Mentally shaking myself, I force a smile, practicing it slightly before heading back to the homestead to return the guitar. I shake my hands and proceed to try and loosen my stiff, colds legs. I jump up and down on the spot a few times, getting my blood flowing and some colour back into my face. Another few smile-practices later and my hand clamps around the neck of the instrument. I banish all the emotion from my face, creating a blank, monotone slate of an expression.

I begin to make my way back through the deadheads, stumbling over the dirt and ungracefully tripping over twigs in branches that obstruct my path. My jerky gait causes the guitar in my grasp to swing from side to side, occasionally knocking into one of the trees and ringing out a loud, wailing sound.

After several minutes of aimless walking, the trees begin to thin out, the lush grass and healthy looking vegetation of the glade becoming clear. I quicken my pace a little, hurrying to put the instrument back in the homestead. All I want to do is go to sleep. As mentioned before- as a medjack, work is very sparse and rare, so doing what I want was more of a given rather than a choice.

Making it to the edge of the treeline, I quickly glance around, spotting a few people close by. As of late, company has only made me antsy and nervous. Right now, I can't stand social interaction so the faster I put this guitar away, the better.

I skirt around the deadheads' edge, trying to keep close to the tree's and stay obscured by the leaves. A good distance in front of me lay the builders section and they usually stick close to the forest so my hesitant steps morph into a jog, hands tightening around the guitar neck. I go further into the deadheads, planning to take a route around where people such as Alex and George would go to gather wood, the loud snaps and crunches of the dry twigs and leaves making me wince.

Almost running at this point, my route takes me in a wide arc, indefinitely avoiding the builders and nearing the homestead. Emerging from out of the tree's, my destination directly in front of me, I sprint the final distance hoping get there and get out as fast as possible.

My chest heaves with tiring breaths and my veins pump adrenaline into my system. Using my remaining energy, I close the distance between me and the homestead in several long, quick strides before crashing thought the door.

Slamming the splintered slab of wood behind me, I lean on it whilst pushing air through my lungs. I almost smile at my small achievement, the tiny victory at not being caught sparking blossom of pride.

Mentally shaking myself for the umpteenth time that day, I cross the rustic gathering hall and go to place my now-slightly-banged-up instrument in the corner of the room, leaning it on a wonky table.

 _Well_ , _part_ _1_ _of_ _my_ _'mission'_ _is_ _complete_. _Now_ _for_ _getting_ _out,_ I think to myself whilst using the back of my hand to wipe sweat of my forehead. I take a few moments to go over how I plan to get back to the cover of the forest, my face scrunching in thought.

I could run back across the Glade...?

Or not; the beeline that got me here would have surely attracted some attention.

Walking back slowly/calmly was also out of the question- I would no doubt be stopped and asked why I was running earlier.

I could possibly skirt along the edge of the walls keeping close to the long grass until I'm close enough to thicker trees.

"What are you doing here?"

My blood runs cold and my stomach drops at the sudden presence behind me. I'd spaced out again, and this time, it's cost me my afternoon plans of napping and staying the hell away from people.

I turn around startled, coming face to face with this brown haired, freckled guy that I think was called Nathan. He was a good few feet taller than me, his figure towering over mine in an obvious attempt to scare me.

I try to recompose myself before answering the boy.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong and even then, it wouldn't concern you," I snap at his, lacing as much venom into my voice. I've seen the way this kid looked at me during the bonfire, he was one of the jerks who stared at me like a piece of meat, and when he wasn't, he had been part of the group to avoid me like the plague.

Nathan eyes narrow at my rude statement before snarling at me, raising his hand as if he were to strike. Eyes widening in shock, I dart underneath his raised arm and lunge towards the door, hand poised on the wood and feet on tiptoes ready to flee if the need arises.

"What the shuck do you think you're doing speaking to me like that, huh, little slinthead?" Nathan demands, clearly angered.

"What the shuck do you think you're doing- you were about to hit me and you know the rules as well as I do," I reply back, my voice shaky and hesitant.

"Yea and? Big whoop if I hit you, who's going to believe you anyway?" he laughs menacingly. "You're just a girl, and a plain stupid, lazy one at that. I mean, you don't even do your job right, all you do is sit around, distract the builders and annoy people," he yells, pissed that I was talking back.

"So?I would like to confirm that I do not care," I sass back with false confidence.

"Shut your worthless shuck mouth, bitch and let me finish. You break stuff, your dumb brain can't even pay attention half the time," my eyes fix onto Nathans' smug stance, a malicious grin formed on his face all the while as he counts all the points he's listing on his fingers. He holds eye contact before resuming his hurtful words.

"-you always forget where you put things, you're loud, shouty, whiny, a spoiled brat, should I continue?" he asks, poison in his tone.

I squeeze my eyes shut, rapidly shaking my head side to side indicating that i'd heard enough.

"Ya know what, no. I don't think I'm done yet." he smiles, pacing around in circles casually in front of my rigid, tense form.

"You're a waste of supplies- whenever anything is sent up, that one crate belonging to you could have been used to bring up food or new clothes or medical supplies instead. But no, apparently you're more important than everyone else here." he snarls, spit flying out of his mouth in a feral manner. I flinch and hopelessly try and back up into the door but not daring to escape yet.

"That's the other thing too! You're a waste of food and labour. We've grown our own stuff for almost a year and to see it being wasted by the likes of _you_ makes me sick. I mean, you serve no real purpose here, or if you did, you're not fulfilling it are you? Why do you think they sent up one _girl_ into a glade full of _boys?_ "Almost shouting at this point he stops pacing, glaring at me with malice. I gape, revolted at what Nathan's insinuating, my grip on the door going slack with the shock.

"You dont think you're just for show right? Otherwise you really are shucked in the brain, but, you obviously know that though- with your nasty, ugly scars and all. They're disgusting. Wait no, " pausing for a second, his eyes narrow before choosing his words, "your entire existence disgusts me."

5 words.

5 words was all it took to break me completely and cause a chain reaction of hurt and suffering.

I force several shaky breaths in and out of my mouth trying to will the anxiety away.

"Okay..." I start out, voice hitching in my throat, my previous demeanour of fake-indifference annihilated. I clear it a couple of times and then continue; "If that's what you think of me... go ahead, I wont stop you..."

Lowering my head to the ground, I hear several harsh laughs erupt from the boy before loud footsteps get closer and a large presence was breathing down my neck. At this point I was grateful that I lowered my head as it hid the oncoming onslaught of tears threatening to break through the dam at any given moment.

"Just go die." was all I heard before Nathan shoved past, elbowing me in the ribs then storming out of the homestead, slamming the door behind him. I'm left standing there in shock, tears dangerously close to spilling.

What have I done to deserve such hate?

I stand there, trying to comprehend what had just transpired. A hurricane of emotions and unfathomable thoughts blur in a black, velvet haze of confusion all the while Nathans' retreating footsteps fade out.

Am I really just a waste of food and space? Nathan made it pretty clear that the whole glade would be better off without my presence. If so, why had I been sent up in the first place? Surely it wasn't for... _that?_ The thought alone is so sickening that I can't bear to dwell about it anymore than I already have.

One again because my lungs wont co-operate, I force myself to take deep, calming breaths for around a minute or so.

Inhale for four seconds.

Hold seven seconds.

Exhale eight seconds.

Repeat.

I maintain this steady rhythm for a several more minutes before raising a quivering hand and wiping the dormant tears from my eyes. One my eyes are clear and dry, I lightly slap and pinch my cheeks to get my blood flowing and reduce the paleness of my probably ghostly face.

Should I even go out now? What if someone see's me? I should probably hide in here.

My mind battles in a two sided struggle; half of me wanting to leave and half pleading to stay.

I can't stay here. Someone will find me and I do not want the same thing with Nathan to transpire again. Summoning the last of my courage, I will my legs to move and my arms to push the door open. As usual, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the glare of the loud sun: once I do, I look for the quickest and most efficient route back to the forest.

Tall grass; open, flat field; maze wall; sparse trees; builders section.

I should have planned where I would go once I was outside as now I'm stuck between choosing an escape option.

 _Move_ , I mentally scream at myself. _Move_ _or_ _they'll_ _see_ _you_.

"Hey Ivy!" a familiar voice calls out.

 _Too_ _late_ _dumbass_.

I look over in the direction of the sound and spot an exited looking Newt.

 _Not_ _now_ , _please_ , my mind starts begging. I shut the voice away before painting my face over with a positive expression

"Hey, watcha doing here?" I smile pleasantly as Newt closes the distance between us. He grins back at my disguised voice, honey sweet and deceptively broken.

"I just wanted to check on you, that dash you made earlier...?" he breaks of his sentence, leaving the questioning words hanging in the air. I knew some guys saw me, I had just been hoping Newt wasn't one of them.

I laugh awkwardly, thinking of a plausible lie. "Oh that... I really wanted to take nap," I chuckle, scratching the back of my neck whilst looking anywhere but Newt.

Clearly not convinced, he crosses his arms and waits for me to continue.

"The return of the bitch face is back," I mumble, my jab directed at Newts' unimpressed expression. "...I wanted to put the guitar away..." I feebly stutter, whilst my hands unconsciously begin to tug at the edge of my shorts, trying to pull them down and cover my exposed scars albeit uselessly.

Newts starts to register the foreign gesture and the smile draining off of my face, and frowning slightly, he asks: "Hey.. what's wrong?"

I don't _know_.

Nothing?

Everything?

Nathan?

Me?

My lower lip begins to quiver on its own accord, making me bite it to try and reduce the shaking. Once again, I lower my head, hair framing my face to conceal this moment weakness from Newt. My fists start clenching, nails boring into my palms, the small crescent shaped dents tingling from the sting.

Panicked at this point, I hear the evident shock in Newts tone when he asks "Ivy, seriously! What's wrong?"

His concern manages to upset me more if possible. I allow a choked sob to escape my mouth, this being the trigger that sets in motion a tidal wave of hysterical tears. My knees begin to shake and weaken, not enough to hold me up so I begin to fall. Just before I hit the ground, I register a body collide with mine and hold me up, bearing both of our weight. As I continue to cry, loud, uncontrollable wails erupting from within me, a voice next to my ear whispers soothing words and mumbles 'its going to be okay' whilst stroking my hair. The crying sensation only brings a truckload of more pain- it doesn't feel good to cry, you don't let anything go, all it's doing is putting your weakness on display and giving a visual reference to the hurt you feel. Its still all bottled up inside, stored and collected until the moment when you're at your most venerable for all to see.

The voice is wrong, it's not 'going to be okay.'

I don't want to be okay.

I just want this to stop, I can't take the drowning anymore, I don't want to keep 'surviving' if I'm not 'living.' This entire situation from the moment I woke up has been nothing but a game that I don't want to keep playing.

Beginning to lessen in volume, I start sniffling after having completely soaked Newts shirt. He doesn't let go however. I cling onto him and bury my face in his ruined shirt, breathing in his scent to help calm down my borderline wild nerves.

At that moment with Newt holding onto me, my arms around his shoulders, and face in the crook of his neck, it was that I realised a part of me I never knew.

The two words cut deeply into my body. The reason I'm being turned on by my own conscious. Why I had brought a blade to my flesh to plead death; kill me.

I want to bring it to an end.

Well I wasn't planning on making this chapter _this_ dark but Yolo

Hmm, I hope none of you think that this feels rushed, if it is or the pace doesn't seem right, I'd appreciate if you could say so, so I can change accordingly :)

ANYWAY- HAS ANYONE HEARD OF SHELBY MERRY?

SHE CREATED THIS AMAZING SONG CALLED WHEN THE DARKNESS COMES BASED ON THE MAZE RUNNER SERIES AND OMMGGGGGGGG, I POSTED A COVER OF IT ON INSTAGRAM AND SHE LIKED AND COMMENTED ON IT *internal screaming*

Like no honestly I was so happy I was shaking and like hyperventilating and oh my goodness I cannot believe she actually told me I have the 'loveliest' voice. ^_^

Anyway- sorry for rambling, you probably wont even read this XD but thanks for reading and stuff!


	12. Sweet Dreams

Heyyaaaa, sorry for updating late!

Dis chapter is meh BUT the end is quite... 'graphic?' PLEASE like I said before, if anything makes you uncomfortable, don't read it- I will not be offended, tbh it made me feel kinda freaked out. I've put in a little message where the 'triggering' part starts so just skip straight to the end if you want to.

Anyways, thanks for reading and for the support!

Btw, check out one of my friends' stories called Exorcist Little Princess (bet she stole the name from me XD)

It's a Blue Exorcist fanfiction and it would be awesome if you could take a look!

I don't own maze runner and sorry for mistakes!

Ivy's POV

Sharp echoes of my boots on tile reverberate and bounce eerily off of the pristine white corridor walls, the sound of harsh breathing complimenting the permeated silence. Far behind are the faint yells and shouts followed by an orchestra of frantic footsteps, an army of people desperate to find me.

My heartbeat struggles to keep up at the pace I'm running at, the violent throb causing abnormally fierce pains in my chest. I'm running on gasoline at this point, my adrenaline not being enough to fuel my fire. I need to get out.

I don't know where I'm running, but I'm sure I'll tell when I reach my destination. The glass vial of blue liquid they injected me with earlier is making me woozy, my vision starting to bend and swirl whilst I struggle to run straight. I can't afford to fall over. If I do they'll catch me.

Blinking rapidly, my breaths coming in even more ragged, hoarse pants, I begin to hear a few guards creeping closer. The sound of loud, metallic boots begin to clear, signalling that they're gaining ground.

Taking a sharp left turn, skidding for a few metres before running again, I think back to what he told me. I forgot who he is.

Who was 'he' again?

I don't remember. But he said to 'keep running; don't look back; survive.'

What was I running from?

A muffled shout of 'don't let her get away' reminds me.

I was running away from WICKED. Whatever they put into my body must have been the memory serum. Evil, sadistic bastards love to stick us with needles and put weird shit in our bodies, not to mention run hundreds of unnecessary tests all just to cut us open and fuck us up. But I thought the memory wipe process was only complete when they submerge the subject?

Oh wait- that only activates the dormant part of the serum which speeds up the memory loss, stores inactive memories and knocks the subject out before being sent up.

How do I know this?

Stop it Ivy!

But how do I know this? Who is WICKED? What is a memory serum? Where am I going?

I can't comprehend what's happening, only the slap of my feet on the ground and the lactic acid burning through my entire being. Fatigue is looming like a storm cloud, threatening to overcome me.

Balling my hands into fists, I narrow my eyes, repeating 'his' words like a mantra in my head.

Keep running.

"Hurry up! We can't let her go in yet!"

Don't look back.

"Faster, she's getting away!"

Survive.

"Where did she go?"

Keep running.

Inhale.

"The procedure hasn't been completed yet!"

Don't look back.

Hold.

"If she doesn't forget now, we could lose her!"

Survive.

Exhale.

This continued on for God-knows-how-long until the immaculate ground started giving way to grubby, stained concrete underfoot. I had passed several doors and intersections but decided to stay put in the direction I was now, fearing if I stopped for even a moment, my will to fight would dissolve like a fragile raindrop.

Upon nearing the end of the hallway, the light began to dim and the state of the passage started to deteriorate. Cut wires hung hazardously from light fixtures whilst splatters of a dried, maroon looking substance painted the walls in a sick and twisted fashion. The desperate shouts behind me were getting louder as I crossed the exit to this never-ending passageway, the narrow hall opening up to a vast expanse of darkness, the only light sources being man-sized tubes of bubbling aqua liquid. The containers they tortured my friends in.

Who are my friends again?

I ponder the question as I fly past the rows upon rows of large cylindrical compartments, trying not to falter at my break-neck speed. He said that once I make it the box, he would override the system and make sure they couldn't stop me from reaching the glade.

Who's he?

What's the glade?

Just stop and shut up- you need to get in the box first!

At the mention of 'the box' I skid to a abrupt halt, nearly overbalancing and slamming face first into a container. Box, box... where's the box! My eyes dart in an urgent manner, scanning every detail of the 'room' as quick as physically possible whilst painfully trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. Frantic, I turn my body around, feebly searching for anything that resembled what I should have been looking for.

"HEY YOU, STOP!"

My heart leaps in my chest as I spot a neon green 'entrance' sign illuminating the dreary entrance to a small room-like structure of a metal cage filled with boxes and crates of different sizes. A ladder was proper up next to the metal grate, the only way in being thought the top where two doors that opened up doubled as the ceiling. I didn't hesitate. That's the box.

I shoot towards the ladder almost jumping two rungs at a time and nearly tipping it over in my desperate climb. Desperate screams and profanities are directed my way from the hallway entrance as I jump into the box, green lights flashing as soon as soon as my feet come in contact with the rusty ground.

I see a few guards stop several feet away, taken aback by the sudden lurch the cage takes before starting to ascend, knocking the ladder and creating a loud, metallic bang.

He hadn't been lying. He did override the system all to make sure I wouldn't get caught. And I couldn't even remember his name.

These pitying thoughts swirl around as I crumple to the floor in a head, relieved as my pursuers faces leave my line of sight. My tummy does a few flips, nauseating my senses and forcing my hand to my mouth in a feeble attempt to supress the bile stinging the back of my throat.

What now?

My vision fades in and out of focus, bending light and fogging up with exhaustion and no doubt the masses of chemicals running through my veins. My legs and arms are numb. My breathing laboured and shallow. My heart beat pounds in my ears causing them to throb. Any moment now, I should pass out. My memories will be unstable, but I should pass out.

Wait no, I don't want to forget.

My name is Ivy; I'm 16 years old; I've been forced to work for WICKED.

My name is Ivy; I'm 16 years old; I have been forced to work for WICKED.

My name is Ivy; I'm 16 years old; I hate WICKED; please kill me.

I push aside the fact that my limbs still burn, getting up into a crouch before feeling my way around the dim box, only the occasional light illuminating the darkness. I decide right there that I can't forget. I can't .

I begin rummaging thought wooden crates, knocking things over in the process and breaking a few things I couldn't decipher in this lighting. My fingers eventually brush again cold metal, the feel of it tingling between my touch, my stomach dropping slightly at the thought of what I was going to do.

This had to be permanent.

I can't forget.

 **THIS IS TRIGGERING** \- **PLEASE** **DON'T** **READ IF** **YOU** **FEEL** **LIKE ITS GONNA AFFECT YOU**

I grasp the handle of what I can only describe as a sharp, serrated edged dagger before crawling to the wall and sitting in a little corner. With the blade held securely between my hand, I point it downwards to the exposed skin of my thighs, my inner conscious screaming out in turmoil and self preservation.

 _Shut_ _up_ _and_ _get_ _on_ _with it_.

I close my eyes, squeezing them shut and biting my tongue. There's no need doubt. I bring the cold metal onto my flesh, keeping the point held there for a few seconds before taking a deep breath, pushing in, and yanking the blade down- hard. The sickening sound of my skin tearing makes me clench my teeth in disgust, yet, not stopping. I repeat the painful process several times, forming the letter 'K' with shaky hands.

Blinking a few times at the bloody mess in front of me, laughing a wavering, ironic laugh. Well, I think, took me long enough to do this.

I continue to make deep lacerations in my soft skin until there's no more space, the entire expanse of my legs covered in warm, metallic crimson and seeping through the gaps in the bottom of the moving cage.

Where am I?

Who am I?

How did I get here?

I just yawn sleepily, my vision fading in and out of consciousness as I shrug the questions off and curl into a ball on the uncomfortable floor, the knife gripped tightly between two hands.

I close both eyes, my head touching the metal as I free fall into a never-ending abyss.

I gasp as tears sting my eyes, shooting up and tipping out of my hammock. I try to look around, my face pressed into the earth of the forest before I take in where I am. I'm in the Glade; it's still dark outside; I was sleeping next to Newts hammock.

It was all just a dream.

Or was it...? I dazedly push myself from up off the floor stumbling back over to my bed and hugging my arms around myself up as I do so every night.

That wasn't a dream

That wasn't a dream.

That wasn't a dream.

I rock myself back and forth at the revelation, hoping it wasn't true. Taking in short, small gasps, my eyesight blurs with flooding tears as I tuck my thin blanket over my head.

In my small sanctuary of isolation, I let the hurt go and sob because there was nothing else to do. Releasing the liquid pain from my eyes was just the sedative I needed before being able to curl up and resuming a fitful, dreamless sleep.


	13. Leave me alone

Heyaa,

I just wanted to say thank you for all the reads on , wattpad and quotev. All the support just makes me really happy and I honestly love all you guys that read, vote/heart/follow and review- it honestly makes my day sooooo much better and especially after those two slightly darker chapters too! The fact that you guys are still reading is like a massive virtual hug ? ﾟﾘﾂ

Anyway, my updates may start to become less frequent because I have GCSE mocks in like 3 weeks and I haven't revised. At all. Like none. Nada.

I'm probably gonna be forced too (even though this helps with my English creative writing) but I promise to still update at least once a week. Thank you for understanding!

Thanks for reading and sorry for mistakes.

I don't own maze runner.

Ivy's POV

"Seriously? Again?" I sigh at the sight of Alex's injured arm, a seemingly painful bone bruise starting to form along his wrist and up. Blue and black swirls painted his arm.

"It wasn't my fault!" he whines.

"Then who's fault was it?" I mock his tone.

"...mine...?"

"Exactly shank."

Sighing again, I expertly move around the medjack hut, casually skimming my gaze down the length of the table and shelves picking out everything I would need to treat Alex's arm. A roll of bandages; an ice pack; a small, adjustable brace.

Shaking the ice pack to activate the whatever-the-shuck-chemicals-that-make-this-thing-cold, I wrap it up in a small hand towel before laying it gently across Alex's wrist and taping it securely on so that it could be contained within the brace.

The metal mesh and rigid fabric twist between my fingers, adjusting to a suitable size whilst Alex patiently eyed my face with curiosity that I could see from my peripheral vision.

"Is there a problem...?" I ask, a sort of what-are-you-doing? undertone in my voice.

"No, no problem," he replies a little too quickly, looking away.

Rolling my eyes, I squat in front of the bed Alex was sat on, taking his hand within my own and positioning the brace to cater to the added mass of the ice pack. I can feel his eyes on me and its driving me nuts. Tightening the straps, I work silently, turning his hand this way and that way to test the size. Upon confirming that all was good, I give a small nod before telling him he was done.

"Imma gonna check whether Clint or Jeff need any help. Best thing is to rest but light work is alright as long as its not anything taxing like lifting," I inform him before spinning on my heel and turning to exit the small room.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I stop mid-step, slightly shocked before forcing a plastic smile on my otherwise sour face and looking back at Alex.

"What do you mean? I'm fine." I tell him in a fake cheery, sweet tone- the previous annoyance and exhaustion undetectable.

Narrowing his eyes, Alex shakes his head. "Fine?" He questions.

"Uhuh. One hundred percent. I needa go help Clint now."

Laughing slightly, he says:"Do you really expect me to believe that? Its obvious that you're not 'fine' and are only saying so to get me off your back."

At this statement my smile falls off my face. No use pretending if he can see right through me.

"I'm fine, seriously." I reply with a roll of my eyes. "If anything, I should be the one asking if you're fine. I mean, you did fall full force on your hand."

He just snorts. "Stop changing the subject. What's wrong?"

Only Newt knew about the Nathan incident and even then I hadn't told him everything that happened. All I said was that I felt bad for being lazy and not doing my part around the Glade after a couple minutes deliberation about whether or not I wanted Justin to get in trouble. The answer was obviously no and tada! My lie has earned me 30% less naps than usual. However I still don't think Newt bought the lie. He keeps on watching me and going out of his way to help me more than usual.

I also hadn't told him about the dream last night. Just the thought alone brought on a flood of dread that pooled in the base of my stomach, forcing its way through my veins and down my legs making my knees wobbly. So basically, I was on my own and I intended to keep it that way.

"There's nothing wrong," I force through gritted teeth.

"Bullshit."

"Shuck sake, what's your problem. Just leave me alone and get off my back okay!" I partially shout at Alex, feeling bad but I just really wanted to change the topic.

"No."

My eyebrows knot into a frown.

"Excuse me?"

"No. Something is wrong and I don't give a shuck if I'm pissing you off. I'm not gonna 'get of your back,' so stop tryna make me."

I glare at the equally fierce looking boy in front of me before quickly shouting over to the other rooms, asking if either Clint or Jeff needed help. After a brief confirmation of 'no,' I stomp out of the room, and then out of the hut.

Can't they just leave me alone?

Alex's POV

I have no idea what's up with Ivy but by the way she's reacting, its probably something sensitive that she's refusing to tell anyone. We've all noticed a slight change in her behaviour- us being Newt, George, Gally, Minho (when he's around that is) and I.

Lately (since about a week ago) instead of lounging around and joking with others during the times when she should've been working, Ivy has immersed herself in anything worth doing; as well as tending to injuries, she's been cooking, building, helping fix some of the older huts, helped us chop wood, put away supplies, looked after animals and much more that I probably haven't paid attention to. It's getting out of hand- most of us can clearly see that something's' wrong.

Rubbing my good hand over my face, I sigh in exasperation at the girls' stubbornness and try to force her out of my mind. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I decide to go and talk to Newt about it.

 _She's_ _gonna_ _shucking_ _work_ _herself to death_

Shaking the thought out of my head, I stand up and begin making my way out of the rickety hut, shouting a quick 'bye' at Clint and Jeff and all but jumping thought the door.

If I wanted to address the problem, today would be the best to do so as tomorrow (tomorrow being the arrival of the new greenie signalling a new month) Newt would begin his rotation as a runner again which would make it kinda difficult to keep an eye on Ivy. He out of all people should be able to figure out what was going on with her.

Running my hand through my dark, curly hair a few times, I trudge through the tall, dry grass on my way to the gardens, spotting a few sympathetic faces directed at my hand that was now in a brace.

I sorta, kinda, tripped...?

Basically, we were further in the deadheads trying to fix the map room and on the way back, my foot got caught on a tree trunk which tripped me up and made me land on onto my hand. It hurt. Alot.

Upon nearing the section of the gardens where vined fruits and veg such as tomatoes and grapes were grown, I spot Newt and Zart immersed in a heated discussion by the looks of it.

"Yo Newt!" I call out once I was close enough. He looks up, his face drawn to the frown on my face before calling out a greeting of his own.

"What the bloody heck's wrong with you? Ya look like a beetle blade has just been shoved up your arse," he laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

"Weeeeell, close actually." I shrug. "It's about Ivy." I state as I close the last few meters between us, Zart respectfully leaving and harvesting tomatoes somewhere else. At my blunt statement, however, Newts face hardens, his friendly, playful attitude disappearing.

"What about her?"

I scratch the back of my neck in an attempt to reduce the awkwardness. I mean, this guy was practically her boyfriend- regardless of Ivy always teasing Newt, calling him her 'sister'- and I didn't want to worry him, especially if I was just being paranoid.

"Well, has... has she been acting strange to you lately?" I question, some hesitation obvious in my question. At this he pauses for a second, pondering over his answer.

"Yes- she's been skipping meals and I heard her crying last night after she fell out of her hammock."

Wait what?

"Whoa whoa, slow down. She _what_?" disbelief evident on my features. Ivy _never_ cried- well unless she witnesses one of the slicers doing their 'thing'- but the girl is tough as nails; she'd rather crack a joke than show weakness of any kind, and apparently so, none of us realised that she has that sort of negativity in her. That's just who she was.

Newt shakes his head before repeating: "She's been skipping meals and I heard her _crying_ yesterday night."

"Are you positive?"

"Do you want me to put your hand in cold water while you're asleep?"

"Well then, _damn_. Do you know why?"

Newt just rolls his eyes at me, a long, regretful sigh escaping him as he shakes his head, answering 'no.'

"If I knew, she wouldn't be like this would she? I don't know the cause, but I'm almost certain it has something to do with Nathan."

My mouth drops open.

"Hold up, _Nathan_?"

"I swear to shuck, if you don't stop repeating everything I say, you're hand won't be the only thing that gets injured today. Yes, _Nathan_. She didn't tell me directly, but I saw him run out of the homestead before she came out herself. When I asked if she was okay she pretended to be but then she just broke down. No one saw it though and I didn't tell for her sake. But it _is_ him alright. We just need to wait for Ivy to tell us herself." Newt explains, a serious expression plastered on his face, hurt and anger prominent on his features at Ivy's attitude and personality changing so drastically.

Whatever Nathan said must've hit a nerve. Or three. I mean, the girl was skipping meals for shucks sake. Newt wouldn't just say so to exaggerate Ivy's strange behaviour. If he's noticed it then it hadn't been just a one-off and he could tell that it would become a problem. Let's just hope we can get to her before Nathan does.

"So... what should we do about it then?" I ask, desperate to help my friend.

Looking down for a second, he pauses, conflicting emotions flickering behind his eyes. He takes in a shuddering breath before meeting my gaze.

"We need to get her to tell us."

Anticlimactic ending I know, sorry!

Much better chapter coming up in a bit.

Thanks for reading.


	14. Payback tastes like apples

Okay so here's the thing, I have a really funny/cute/ice breaker idea for this chapter but I'm finding it really hard to write it at the moment so I'm just gonna cut this chapter short and the rest will be posted later this week.

Again, I do have mock exams in 2 weeks so updates will be slower.

Hope you enjoy this really crappy chapter ? ﾟﾘﾂ btw theres ALOT of swearing (this was rated mature for a variety of reasons XD)

I don't own maze runner

Ivy's POV

"Ivyyyyy," he whines.

"Oh my shuck I swear to god nothings' wrong!" I exclaim from my hammock, Cocoa snuggled into my side as I swing the bed from side to side. All Newt does is roll his eyes at my reluctance to answer him.

"If nothing was wrong then Alex wouldn't have come to talk to me about it would he?" he sighs.

"Alex can't keep him mouth closed. He needs to mind his own business before I kick him in the parts where he _does_ his business." I retort, my sass making a reappearance. Newts' not left me alone since he found me after Alex pissed me off.

"He's only looking out for you; now, we can either do this the easy way in which you tell me what going on, or we can pester you until you do." he smiles at the contradictory statement. I just groan in annoyance

" _Or_ you can leave me alone because I'm fine and you're making a big deal out of nothing." Seriously, couldn't they take the hint that I didn't want to tell anyone. Telling them was weakness and I didn't want to burden anyone of the boys with a single problem of mine because ever since I've arrived, I've been nothing but a sequence of problems lined up one after the other. Nathan was right, I was annoying and weak- keeping my mouth shut was the least I could do.

"Okay that is a blatant lie. Don't think we haven't noticed. All of us have seen the difference in the way you're acting, not to mention I've seen you skipping multiple meals ever since last week. _And_ I heard you crying yesterday night." At this my eyes widen considerably before I break eye contact with the almost angry boy in front of me. "So go ahead and tell me it's nothing because I sure as shuck won't believe you until you tell me the truth."

I bite my lip, my expression turning downcast at worrying the boys yet still not having the heart to tell them. Feeling Newts' stare on me was making me anxious, scared even. I'm not gonna tell him. That part was obvious. But I don't know how to get everyone to stop worrying and asking questions 'cause I sure as hell was trying to act as alright as I could despite my conscious and negativity weighing me down all throughout the day, an apparently night now too.

I hear him sigh in response to my silence, it being the only answer he needed.

"Can't you just change the subject? I don't wanna tell you now," I whisper dejectedly before adding a "Please?"

From my fetal position, I could register concern flicker over the boys' features whilst he rubbed the back of his neck- a gesture I've noticed him do every time I worry or annoy him.

So much for trying not to bother anyone.

For the umpteenth time today I hear him sigh a regretful sigh, shaking his head and squatting down to look straight into my eyes.

"Fine, but don't think I'm gonna leave this alone." he pauses for a moment before adding "I'm gonna go and get Alex, Gally and all those shanks- we're gonna have some fun tonight (A/N NOT LIKE THAT YOU PERVS, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE SO SHUT UP DALJIT, MADDIE AND MARYSIA) so no more feeling sad, yeah?"

After a moments thought, I nod slowly, a little weary of what Newt was planning.

 **Time skip cuz I'm too lazy to write all the in between stuff**

"What are you doing?" I yelp as Newt drags me towards the bonfire area where scattered logs and about 6 or 7 guys sat conversing and chilling. It was still just after dinner (at which I pushed food about my plate, avoiding Newt and Alex's glares) so it was bright and sunny, the actual bonfire untouched.

"Like I said Vi, we're gonna have fun whether you want to or not," the asshat smirks as a groan escapes my mouth.

Like seriously?

He keeps a firm grip around my wrist as he nears the circle of dudes. "Hey guys, I got her," Newt calls out to the guys, who, upon closer inspection turned out to be Gally, Minho, George, Alex, Ben, Jeff and Clint. They all turn around at Newts sudden 'greeting.'

"Well isn't this a party," I exclaim sarcastically, rolling my eyes and shaking my head at whatever the fuck these idiots thought they were doing.

Minho turns around, raising an eyebrow at my condescending tone. "Actually shank, it's a friendly get together of highly valued intellectuals who happen to want to converse and discuss the controversial topics within Today's' society- not that you would understand," Minho replies, smirking at my annoyed expression.

"I swear to shuck, if I see one more smirk out of any of you, I will stitch your lips together," I growl yanking my arm out of Newts' grip before storming past Minho (maybe lowkey stomping on his toes) and finding myself a dry spot on the ground, leaning my back against a log.

"What the fuck you want now," I snap, directing my question at Newt, anger beginning to seep through the cracks of my stony facial expression. "I'm here and shit, so hurry up, some of us want to go to sleep."

Taking a place next to me, Newt snorts before scolding me; "Number 1, watch your language- it surely mustn't be good for you health- and two, bloody loosen up a little!" he laughs.

Fine.

If he wants fun, I'll give them fun.

I take in a deep breath, counting to 10 silently and forcing a diabetic smile onto my face, sadism prominent in the glint of my eyes. "Okay then. Lets play truth or dare." I challenge. I see the boys- especially George and Clint pale a little. My smile turns into a full on Cheshire cat grin as the guys look at each other, shrugging and silently questioning what could go wrong.

Finally Gally speaks up from my left, "Sure, why not? Can't hurt," I laugh at his statement.

"We'll find out," I whisper under my breath, Newt giving me a horrified expression. "So who's first?" I exclaim cheerily clapping my hands together. The unease was evident in the air- I could smell their nerves. What a bunch of pussies.

A chorus of 'Nah' and 'I'm good' rang throughout the air.

"Why don't you go first?" Jeff calls out, trying to avoid being picked on.

"Ughhh, you're all cowards. Fine," I agree, crossing my arms, expectancy lining my features. "Go ahead- dare." No way in shuck was I picking truth- these shanks would ask what's up and I'd have to answer, so the solution was simple-

"Dare ya to kiss Newt."

-well fuck.

Gally bursts out laughing, Minho and George joining in. I glare at Alex, the fucker smirking like a bitch.

"I hope you know that you're a little shit." I growl, his laugher ringing in my ears and his words echoing in my head. Looking to the side, Newt stares back at me presumably laughing at my murderous expression but otherwise unaffected.

"Fine, someone has to go first," I sigh. Well then, I have to kiss Newt.

Wait, where?

"...Does cheek count?"

"Nope," the bastard chirps.

Well then.

Lets not do all that lovey-dovey bullshit where the couple stares into each others eyes and suck face for a minute straight. A quick peck and that's it. I turn my head and face Newt- who was at this point still holding back laughs at how absurd my dare was- and hesitantly lean in. His brown eyes meet mine in a half-hearted attempt at not moving as I close the distance and press my lips quickly yet firmly against his, the brief taste of apples flooding my senses before I pull away suddenly. Unfortunately in doing so, my foot seems to slip and I fall forwards, awkwardly landing across his legs.

What the actual hell just happened?

"That was so anticlimactic," I hear George whisper.

From my sprawled our position on Newts lap, I manage to push myself up onto my elbows and meet his gaze before we both burst out in a drunken fit of hysteria. Pretty soon, I'm gasping for air, my lungs devoid of oxygen and my face no doubt crimson. Newt was the same. The others just looked disappointed, as if expecting more. Well fuck yea loopholes!

Once we calm down, I roll off Newt and go back to my former spot, crossing my legs beneath me, grinning evil at Newt.

"Which one of you shanks next?"

The boy beside me hums in thought, returning my smirk before choosing the guy who looked most nervous.

"What about George?" he replies.

I giggle.

"Excellent choice, George...?"

The poor boy gulps before choosing 'dare.' Oh this was gonna be so fun.

"I dare you to seductively stroke Gallys' eyebrows."


	15. The bet

I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING, LIKE I TRIED TO BUT EVERYTHING I WROTE TURNED OUT CRAP

Anyway, honestly, I'm sooooooooooo so so so sorry

To make up for it here's a short chapter- its not what I originally wanted to post but I made it shorter so I can continue writing the rest and i'll update today, if not, tomorrow

This chappie turned out kind of 'meh' but something BIG is gonna happen in the next one so keep reading!

I don't own maze runner!

Ivy's POV

My arm burns in exhaustion, an already firm grip on George's hand tightening in a last ditch attempt to gain leverage, my teeth gritting in exertion before slamming his fist onto the splintered picnic table.

Cheers erupt from all around at my victory, our small bet an unspoken thread hanging in the air.

I smile sarcastically, in a sing-song voice sweetly singing: "I win! Paybacks' a bitch!"

He smiles back- a good natured grin spreading across his face, happily accepting defeat as Alex comes up behind him and pats his slumped shoulders.

"That's what ya get if you underestimate a girl. Man, females are beasts," he exclaims, beginning to smirk at the prospect of Georges' 'punishment' as it were.

So basically, after several hours of truth or dare (a few kisses, a Minho having to change into my bra, an Alex forced to run 3 laps around the Glade in his undies and A Newt announcing to everyone that he was sexually attracted to potatoes) we began testing each other, a variety of bets coming into light and gambling of all kind (well, as much as you could in a boxed in maze.) So far, Alex and Gally have raced and wrestled each other, me and Newt have had a thumb war- I obviously won- Jeff and Minho have battled in a vicious water fight and as of now, George and I just finished our arm wrestle, the crowned victor given the right to pierce the losers' ear.

Told ya this was going to be fun.

"Sorry dude, but a bet is a bet," I laugh, all the worries of the past several days a dull throb in the back of my mind. George nods before getting up and waiting for me to follow. The group of boys crowded around us part like the dead sea, giving up a clear path to walk through, only several of them following.

Our original group of gladers walk together in a scattered crowd behind me. I was skipping toward the medjack hut as the soft sun began to slip upwards above the far east wall, throwing long shadows across the glade as a cold afternoon breeze blew, caressing my face and hair like gentle hands- George following closely behind. The lush plants underfoot tickle my calves with a feather touch, as I realise the boys are being slow as usual so I run back and grab Newt and whoever was closest (Minho) before dragging and tugging at their sleeves to make them hurry up.

"Come on shanks! You guys are so slow," I smirk, jumping up and down before sprinting back to George, linking arms and pulling him through the makeshift, wooden building. I begin cackling evilly in an exaggerated manner, jumping across the room whilst picking out all the equipment I needed; a needle, icepack, sterile wipes, the twisted metal earning thingy Gally made for our bet and I think that's all.

A sheen of sweat begins to form on Georges brow, an audible gulp heard as I direct my gaze to the boy, making eye contact before a genuine laugh fills the silence, prominent stiches attacking my abdomen. The look of horror on his features begins to set in, as if he just registered what was about to happen.

Well nah(!)

Its like I'm going to force a hole in your flesh or anything.

Note the sarcasm.

Just then, the barrage of boys burst in, talking amongst themselves and with it disrupting the previous echoes of my uncontrollable giggles. They settle in any available spaces in the cramped hut, Gally and Minho opting for the floor. Calming down, I wipe the tears from the corner of my eyes returning to the equipment infront of me and unwrapping the plastic packaging of the needle. My line of vision dances back to the guys on the floor.

"You shanks better hope that ya don't trip me up. If you do, better pray that I don't stab ya," I joke, resuming my fumbling around with the plastic whilst uncomfortable shuffling sounds from behind my back.

"I thought we'd established that you're not a serial killer," an exasperated Newt sighs in amusement.

"Well, I'm 73% sure I wasn't but that 27% means that there's still a possibility," I shrug in all seriousness making Clints' eye's widen, Alex facepalm Newt roll his eyes. Everyone else just brushed off my remark as another one of 'Ivy's daily shit-fest of randomness.'

Successfully taking out the needle, I then activate the 'cold-shit-that-makes-an-icepack-go-cold, handing it over to George before commanding him to press it to his preferred ear and alerting me when it went numb.

Alright... what happens now?

"...Heeeeeeey Clint...?"

He looks up at me from his seat on a stool, shaking his head, saying "Nu uh, I ain't helpin'. You guys are the ones who made the bet so I'm not involved."

So nice, I think as I meander through my mind, trying to work out what to do next.

Skipping forward a few steps in the process, I call out; "Hey does anyone have an apple?"

A few mumbles are heard before Minho holds out a slightly battered version of said fruit, the shine and colour faded and bland. It would do regardless. I hand it over to Newt, asking him to slice it up. He silently takes the fruit and begins to carve it with his machete.

"Is it numb yet?" I ask, my question directed at George.

George gives a small nod, replying "Almost."

Okay... I should probably sterilize the needle now.

I grab a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, finding and pressing a clean piece of cotton to the rim soaking the material and then rubbing it against the tip and along the length of the needle and then all over the makeshift earring. Something was missing thought. My eyebrows furrow in concentration before my eyes land on a pristine box of untouched matches. Bingo.

I pluck one from out of the box and strike it against the wood of the wall, creating small sparks. A small flame erupts forth, dancing and bubbling on the end of the stick as I bring it closer to the tip of the metal. I hold it there for a minute or so, the feel of everyone's stares almost causing me to drop the flame.

The needles' edge slowly but surely starts flowing a luminescent orange mirroring that of the small flame that was now nearing the end of its spark- its sunset-like hues burning quietly before all but disappearing. I blow out the reminiscence of amber, throwing the charred splint over my shoulder (earning very pointed looks from Clint and Jeff) and asking for Newts assistance with this whole ordeal.

"Is it numb now?"

"Yup.. just, please don't stab me."

"Oh Yee of little faith ya slinthead. If I did Alby would have my neck," I roll my eyes at him. "Anyway, Newt, I'm gonna clean his ear and I need you to hold the apple behind it for when I have to push the needle in, okay?"

He responds with a silent nod, picking up a reasonably sized square of apple and holding it ready. I pickup another ball of cotton and soak it in alcohol (disregarding the sterile wipes at this point because like, ya know, I'm really forgetful) and, somehow managing to juggle not contaminating the still hot needle, Not poking George's face with it and wiping down his earlobe.

Okay, now for the 'gross part.'

No hesitation.

I bite down on my tongue, pure concentration on my features as I will any anxiety or shakiness to diminish into oblivion. I nod at Newt, a solemn expression plastered onto his face as he does as told before whilst I bend my knees and get into an eyelevel position. Gently gripping Georges earlobe, I feel him clench his jaw before I position the needle and push it through with all the strength I'm willing to muster. The sound of Alex cringing and George grunting almost makes me falter. Almost. I feel the needle tip exit from the other side, having pushed through soft flesh, piercing into the apple. I heave a sigh of relief and quickly find the earing, holding it between two dainty fingers as I ask Newt to remove the apple and I pull the rest of the metal through quick as lighting.

Swiftly, I place the piece of jewellery into the small visible hole and tighten the back, securing it in place. A collective sigh is heard from everyone as the tension slowly dissipates into the air.

"Well done Ivy, you didn't shucking kill him." Gally shakes his head in mock approval. All I do is smile a genuine flash of content, hearing the dudes complementing me.

"Dayuuuuum that looks hot." Alex remarks, before Newt slaps him around the head.

"Bloody hell, you're jacked." Newt grumbles

Looking over to my handiwork, I admire how it turned out- minimal mistakes, a clean pierce. I should do this more often.

"Hey guys..." I start out, hesitation in my quiet voice. They all turn around to meet my eyes, urging me to continue what I wanted to say.

"Can I have one?"

Vote/heart/follow/comment ? ﾟﾘﾊ

Thanks for reading!


	16. Golden Halo

Okieee I'm sorry for not updating a few days ago like I promised :/ but like I had to study and then I got really ill yesterday and meh- sowwyyy

I dont own maze runner except for Ivy, Alex and Nathan. OMG I JUST FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO THE LINE THING YAAAAAAAS FINALLY

* * *

Time skip to dinner

I sit in silence sat in front of the maze door openings, the wind carrying over the muffled sounds of all the Gladers having dinner. As usual, I was skipping again. I wont admit it to anyone, but Nathan words' hit close to home. He's right though. As well as many other things, I am a waste of food and that food best be spent feeding another Glader instead of me.

My fingers subconsciously go to my lip and start to twirl the newly forged loop of metal that resided in a fresh hole recently made there. Shortly after I pierced George, some other shanks and I wanted our own. After almost an hour of begging and pleading, a very reluctant Newt succumbed to my girly tears and repeated the procedure on my lip. He obviously didn't get one- my little Noot is far too innocent. But of course Minho and Alex ended up joining the party- another two specially made Gally earrings later and Alex got his eyebrow done whilst Minho now has the same as George. We offered Gally the opportunity but he said something along the lines of "Come anywhere near me with that needle and I'll shove it up your ass."

I gently twist the metal through the tender flesh, pulling it as far as it will go before repeating the process the other way. The slight tugging and sting of my bottom lip helps direct my attention in one place. I don't know what I'm focusing on, but my mind refuses to wonder. My eyes communicate the sway of the small cluster of peaceful trees complimenting the dancing, rippling surface of the spring directly underneath, sheltered in the shade. The tinkling sound of the spring greets my ears in an melancholy song, making my chest clench a bit.

(listen to this while reading:

watch?v=5L3wdni3Qn8

That's only the instrumental and there are lyrics further down the page so if you want to listen to the vocal version here it is but be warned, its for another 'fandom' so you may be confused:

watch?v=5L3wdni3Qn8

Without the spaces obviously)

This afternoon has been some of the most fun I've had in a while; ever since finding out about my injury, there's been a lingering presence of doubt and uncertainty; ever since Nathans' confronted me, there's been a persistent dwelling of negativity and unbalance. My inner self has been placed on a scale and so far, it has tipped in favour of turmoil. I never realised it but its moments like these- the wind lifting my hair around my face and the ground underneath radiating a cool coldness- that I cherish the quiet. No too quiet so that I can hear shouted profanities from within me; quiet enough so I can embrace the calm before the storm.

 _Sleep soundly safe in my heart. You no longer have to face the evil in the_ dark.

My eyes flutter closed as I lean back until my back touches the ground, resting my hands under my head and sprawling my legs out on the grass in front of me. The harsh sunlight tenderly kisses my face lovingly, yet its rays still manage to leave a bright red splotch on the inside of my eyelids. Its warm though. What I wouldn't do for a hug right about now.

Almost as if reading my thoughts, the crimson haze disappears and the absence of light sends a shiver up my arms. Cautiously, I open an eye to be greeted with a shadowy, dark face. A golden halo of caramel and chestnut hair is visible from down here, bright green eyes glaring and boring into my own.

Newt?

A silver glint to my right catches my attention. Clenched in the persons' hand was a wickedly sharp blade.

"Get up, now," a familiar voice commands in an almost robotic manner.

 _Nathan?_

"What the hell dude!" I whisper harshly.

"I said _get_ _up_ , before I make you!" He 'shouts' in a quiet manner, looking around as if checking to see if anyone was nearby and could see what was happening.

Hesitantly, I begin to stand up, eyeing the knife in Nathans left hand. He senses my unease and grins maliciously. His grassy eyes glint dully, and keeping his voice low, he says: "Now, get in front of me and keep your hands up."

I do as he says, lifting my hands and giving him the full pleasure of seeing me shake in fear. It's not that I'm scared of him exactly, but the weapon in his hand terrifies me to no end.

The boy comes up behind me, grabs both hands and twists them behind my back, rendering my arms useless. He grips my wrists painfully in one hand before bringing the blade to my throat, pressing the sharp edge to my skin hard enough to hurt but not enough to break the skin. The sharp edge was somewhat blunt, meaning that Nathan could have as much fun with this as he wanted- more force but no risk of killing me, if that even was his intention.

My head spins, nausea pooling in the base of my stomach and numbness beginning to spread throughout my legs. This can't be happening. Shucking dumbass can't be doing this now.

"Walk!" the boy barks.

I do as I'm told.

Might as well 'humour' the boy, as it were. Once he's distracted I'll scream bloody murder and get his ass thrown in the damn slammer. I understand why he hates me but theres no reason to go this far.

Nathan roughly pushes his arm into my back, kicking my side with his foot and making me face the doors.

No way.

"Bitch walk this way."

"Nathan what the fuck!"

"Shut up and walk this way bitch, before I kill you myself!" He all but screams.

At this point, pure, undiluted fear reverberates through every ounce of my being.

He's going to kill me.

Suddenly, the ear-splitting screeching and grinding of the stone doors resonate throughout the glade. The gears begin turning and the nails-on-chalkboard like scream echoes in my ears.

"Don't stop! Keep going, hurry the fuck up!"

I begin to struggle, thrashing and twisting to get my arms free- being cut by the knife in the process. Kicking blindly, I desperately try to delay the inevitable; if the doors close first, then maybe someone will help me.

A hard kick to the back of my knee makes me crumple to the floor before a hand grabs my hair and violently pulls me back up. Tears begin to form in my eyes at the sudden pain exploding throughout my head, before I'm pushed once again and kicked to make me move forward.

"This would be a whole lot easier if you would just fucking hurry up and MOVE!" Nathan hollers.

 _No_... _please_.

A blinding, red hot flurry of warmth and burning erupts in my side, blood trickling out of the stab wound and staining my shirt. I cry out in anguish, the reality of my situation becoming all to real.

The doors were almost half closed and there was still a seven metre gap between us and the opening. I continue to struggle and shout but my pleas of help were washed away with the sound of the grinding rock.

Nathan was clearly getting agitated and grabbed my side, finding the wound before _squeezing_.

I scream.

Tears stream down my face and sobs rack my body.

He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a maniac. I pound on his back, all the while screaming for anyone to hear me.

I'm not sure whether I was heard, but a few boys emerge from the homestead and spot us. One of them runs off to presumably where everyone was eating, the other two begin sprinting over- they weren't gonna make it.

Nathan had reached the doors, only a two metre gap remained. He catapults me off his shoulder and a good few feet into the rapidly closing corridor. The momentum of the shove sends me rolling an extra meter before hitting my head on the concrete floor. Damn that hurt like a bitch.

I try to glance up and scan how far in he pushed me.

I'm too far in to turn around now. I can't go back. I'm going to die.

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

One metre.

I scramble to get up, and through my teary vision, I see the two boys tackle Nathan to the ground and some others there too. Alby and Newt are there, frantic and terrified. I can't go back though. There's not enough time nor space. The doors are almost touching my side. I'm not going to make it either way.

"IVY!"

"NO!"

"YOU CAN MAKE IT BACK JUST TURN AROUND!"

The stone walls on either side are so close now that I have to scurry sideways to avoid being squished. I briefly look back to see Newt and, now Alex, desperately calling out my name, Alex almost in tears.

I give them a small smile, mouthing a 'sorry.'

I emerge out of the gap and fall to my knees.

A thundering boom of the doors signal the end.


	17. Authors note (not an update sorry)

Heyaaa! Rain here,

So I'm really sorry I haven't updated in ages, after my February mocks I just kinda lost all motivation to continue and I can't seem to get back into the flow of writing, I know its not an excuse but I am really sorry.

I'm not sure whether I should continue writing this or not, I started out writing this story for fun by now it almost seems like a chore so unless people actually want to read on I don't think I'll be continuing,

HOWEVER,

if you want me to keep on writing, a comment would be appreciated, I'll do my best to finish this story for those out there who want to read on (dw even if its one or two I'll do it for you guys!)

Anyway, sorry for the long authors note, hope you guys understand and love you all!

Rainy x


	18. Give up

YO GUYS, MISS MEH?

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, I HATE TO HAVE TO HAVE LEFT YOU ON A CLIFF HANGER BUT IVE DECKDED IM GOING TO CONTINUE THIS STORY NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES.

Thank you all for the overwhelming supports on all the sites this story is posted and I hope you guys continue reading! Love you all so much 😊

I'm gonna try to update at least once a week, I know I haven't kept this promise before but I'll definitely try to stick to it this time

Oh and btw, should I make an instagram account to help keep you guys posted? I'll be able to clear up something to do with the story, maybe some character info or where the plot is going, idk just a thought

ANNNNNDDD the amazing tacosforall (my lil Meagan bear cub) helped me with this chapter, you don't even understand how awesome you've been Meagan, thank you sooooooo much ^3^

Anyway sorry for the long A/N enjoy this chapter 😊

* * *

My breath comes in raged, torn gasps, the foggy air emitted from my mouth shaking and quivering in the numbingly cold mind-game of a prison. Its been about a few hours since the screeching and clicking started and I've been moving non-stop. My legs are numb and feel lifeless all except for the small daggers of pain that shoot through my ankles with each given step. My chest heaves in an agonising way, throat sickeningly hot and bothered from all my coughing. My injured side burns cold from the still open wound pouring out blood, the exposure attacking my abused flesh. Its hard to keep going in my physical state, not to mention my mental one too.

The impaired soles of my boots slap messily against concrete, abnormal mechanic groans growing closer with every turn. I'm trying so hard to stay moving, erratic heartbeat pumping liquid adrenaline and forcing my limbs to accelerate dangerously fast. This isn't good, fatigue is catching up to me like a train.

I can hear the clicks behind me, sounding almost like a mechanical cackling that echoed against the silent walls of the maze. My breathing is shallow: short and fast with panicked irregularity. The stone around me offered no escape, just encouraged the haunting feeling that I would be dead very soon. I wanted to hide, fight, scream, cry - anything but this constant running looking over my shoulder. It was closing in. The squelching of it's flesh and metal 'clink clink' are like nails on a chalkboard. My skin crawling as I imagine it creeping closer and closer, it's claws reaching out and snatching me backwards and sending me away into hell.

Rounding a sharp corner, I skid recklessly, my knees grazing the ground and hands falling forward to prevent overbalancing. The sight makes my blood run cold.

10 feet ahead roared a distinctly arachnid shaped beast with acidic, angry flesh and wickedly sharp appendages of rusted metal. My blood runs cold and goosebumps arise in a vain attempt to trap my remaining body heat. This can't be happening. I can feel my pulse in my chest and everything seems to focus on its beat. The thump thump encouraging me to move and yet I'm paralyzed. Time catches up to us and suddenly a violent scream escapes the small cavity in the grievers' face, showing off its glaring needle teeth before swiping its tail menacingly behind it, back and forth, taunting me. Saying 'run.'

Somewhere in my brain, I recall being told to bolt at any sign of danger. Theory and practice are very different things. An image of a scenario will look like childsplay in comparison to the real thing. The real thing will leave you fucked beyond recognition, and then even more fucked due to your body's unwillingness to cooperate. I'm frozen solid right now. Every fibre of my being has folded in on itself, every ounce of self preservation thrown out the window as the odds stacked against me double and triple.

Too late.

An icy, relentless arm flies into my line of sight, noticed only moments before it crashes into my side, making my rib cave in on itself before slamming me into a wall. The agony ignites a shriek of pure anguish; the sound making my own ears ring in addition to the pounding of blood flooding my head.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to be killed right here, right now.

The griever raises an appendage, charging straight at my limp form and swipes down across my abdomen. Screaming, curl up around my body messily, fingers fumbling around my midsection as the griever pulls back, willing again for the chilling numbness. The earlier pain reaches a crescendo, almost as if that's as much torture my body can endure, before fizzling out into a warmth. At this stage tears flood my vision. Hysterical, ugly sobs. I can't do it anymore, there's no point.

I'm not crying for my life, I'm begging for death.

Blood slicks over my hands, friction barely existent, all the while the warmth from my incisions begin setting in an alarming coolness. Heat escapes me and absences of light dance in my vision. I can register the blurry wail of the griever.

I've already embraced my end. I'm going to die but I'm dying on my own terms; what's taking so long to get this over and done with?

Faraway I sense the turmoil of the beast; spastic movements that make an appearance from behind the fast approaching hazyness. Screeching dulls out into a grey throb and faint flashes of light register through tear filled eyes as metal strikes metal; metal slices flesh.

I'm too tired.

I don't want to stay awake.

- _No, Survive!_

At this new presence, _that_ voice, my eyes fly open only to witness the griever carving a gash through its own sickly body; fluid and tissue splattering all over the ground, painting the stone and basking the air in the unpleasant scent of copper. The beast lets out a final scream before collapsing, making the contents of its insides now all on the floor, fly up splash up onto the walls.

No...

That was meant to be my escape, I don't want to wait until I bleed out. I grit my teeth in frustration, clenching a fist and pounding it on the stone floor. Crying freely now, I let out a howl of anger and run my hands through my hair and pull, whilst still curled up on the floor.

I wanted to die on my own terms.

My last thought fades in a feeble attempt at remaining awake, as the darkness finally catches up to me and swallows up the world.


	19. Blood

So I'm aware I haven't updated since last year- I know I've apologised every chapter but I'm really sorry. I don't want to make promises I'm not going to keep but I hope that you guys keep reading every time I find the motivation to update

Also this chapter might be a little triggering

Anyway, thank you for the support!

* * *

Newts POV

10 hours. We've been waiting 10 hours for the doors to open.

Gladers camped outside the doors hoping for any sign of life beyond the walls. Of course with the promise of a sign came the underlying realisation that anything we heard, would definitely not go unnoticed by the grievers.

Shortly after the doors closed on Ivy, Alex lost it and went after Nathan, bloodlust evident in his eyes, icy blue and piercing. Punches and blows were exchanged- sickening sounds of fists colliding; one pair in fury and the other in self defence. Gally and I had pried him of the bloody mess of a boy underneath, whilst Minho grabbed Nathan by the collar, yanking him away from Alex who was fighting our grip. It seems like a blur now. Everyone was shouting. Gladers questioning what had happened. Others demanding justice for Alex's 'unprovoked' attack.

Once Minho and Nathan were out of sight, heading to the slammer, Alex broke down; loud, guttural wails accompanied his tear soaked face. No one questioned his manhood- many of us were in the same position, but to Alex, he'd just lost his best friend. I don't know what I lost, yet it felt like everything was crashing down around me. This shouldn't have happened, Ivy should still be here with us.

Right now, we're waiting for the doors to open, all the runners, Gally, Alex and I. Some boys are pacing in anticipation. After all, no one survives a night in the maze. The screaming last night didn't fall upon deaf ears either. It was no doubt Ivy.

5 more minutes.

I tap my foot impatiently, furrowing my brows.

What if she's dead?

The idea brings on a bought of vertigo. Wishful thinking will get us nowhere but reality is just as hard to face.

3 minutes.

I secure the straps on my back holding my machete for the umpteenth time, the tapping growing more intense.

1 minute.

Everyone by now gets into position, prepared to bolt as soon as the door openings gets big enough. Me and Alex share a look- _'find_ _her_ , _no_ _matter_ _what it takes_.'

Of course Alex wasn't a runner, the events last night had hit so deep that no one had the will to argue. The more the merrier I guess. The larger the chances of finding Ivy. Or what was left of her.

The familiar grinding of gravel and concrete erupts throughout the glade, penetrating through the stillness. Time seems to slow, the agonising wait during the first few seconds dragging on whilst the crevice between the two walls slowly expands. Heaving a sigh, I push my way through the dense pack of runners and begin running. Alex follows closely behind, and then Minho. I can feel the rough stone against my arms either side of me for a split second, before they move away, leaving scrapes and tears in my hoodie. I don't care though. I have more important things on my mind.

* * *

Timeskip

Turning a sharp corner, we come face to face with a crude sight. No one's ever seen one, but the mess of flesh and metal confirms itself as a griever.

"What the shuck...?" Minho questions, shock evident in his tone of voice.

Its spider form lay limp across the stone walkway, the contents of its sickly flesh permeated and spewed across walls, stone and plants. The 'legs' were strikingly artificial, wicked and sharp. Harsh metal edges made for the butchering of people.

Minho looked over my way, a grimace appearing and knotting a frown in his forehead.

"How'd it die?" he asked, the question boring a hole at the forefront of our thoughts.

"You..." he paused. "You can't think this was Ivy, right?"

That was impossible, as much as I'd like to believe, it was such a slim chance. The disappointment would be too great to bear had I start thinking she survived now. Set yourself up for negativity and be surprised when proved wrong or not hurt when proved right. I nodded a 'no' at Minho.

Just then, Alex permeated the stiff quiet with a gasp. As we rounded the corner, he had been more wary of the mass of blubber so he stayed a ways off. Now he briskly walked, urgency taking over, around the other side of the griever that we had yet to inspect.

"Ivy!" He breathed, albeit in terror.

What?

Me and Minho shared a glance, before jogging around. Alex was ducked over something, stood over the leg of the monster, over a pool of blood.

"Its Ivy!" he yelled again, this time in horrified realization.

I pushed the boy out of the way to see what he was looking at and my stomach knotted with dread. Cold, icy dread.

The once lively girl lay sprawled, the griever sharp appendage clutched between her hands like the first time we saw her, crusted blood leaking out her side and newly formed crimson flowing out her wrists, multiple wounds forming as if her missing and aiming to get the right spot that would end her life. My breathing shallower out, the cruel sight making me freeze.

Just then Minho pushed me out of my trance and dropped across Ivy to check her pulse. From his concentrated expressions, it seemed as though she were still alive but from the looks of it, not for long.

"-ut of here"

"-acks, right equipment?"

-Ivy... dead."

"-ewt, _NEWT"_

I snap out of my trance at Alex's sharp voice, adrenaline kicking in. She's going to die.

"We need to stop the blood right now or she wont make it," Minho orders sombrely.

My mind is still in overdrive as I take off my hoodie, ripping off the sleeves and typing them securely around Ivy's slit wrists, blood making my fingers slip and fumble as it soaks into the fabric. Once done, Alex removed the 'weapon' and Minho wasted no time picking her up and running, leaving me and Alex to gawk at each other, shock evident on our faces and blood dripping at our fingertips.

"We'll be banishing Nathan at sunset," I whisper, before taking off after Minho, Alex's confirmation being the slapping off worn trainers against the stone, in rhythm with mine.

All I can think of is _her_. How did she survive? Were her wrists Nathan doing? The grievers'? Her own? We were aware that we were losing her, emotionally, but it couldn't have been that bad. Granted, she did spend a night in the maze. The horror alone making me shudder and weep for the trauma she experienced at Nathans' hand. We all heard the screams of anguish within the glade.

I could only hope that she stays with us after this.


	20. What should have been

Some may find this triggering, Ivy talks of suicide and there's some self harm in the last paragraph- if you don't want to read it this chapter is just a filler of when she wakes up after the maze.

Also, if it wasn't clear, in the last chapter the griever spazzed out due to WICKED intervention (ahem Thomas) which was also the same voice Ivy heard in Sweet Dreams where it helped her escape into the Glade.

Anyway enjoy this chapter!

Pain.

Everywhere.

It was prominent in my arms and side, yet it burned through every cell and fibre of my body, residing in the spaces between, acting as a resin to keep me from falling apart. Everything _hurt_ so much.

The last thing I remember before darkness took over, was blood. Lots of it. The grip of metal between my fingertips and the struggle. My hands didn't belong to me in that moment. I fought a war and the only thing that kept me from succeeding was me. I remember bringing the sharp point onto my wrist, only to have my other hand robotically keep me from ending it all. It left me in tears and hysteria at the disobedience and before I knew it the sun was up and I had been drowsy. It was then that I managed to wrench the cursed scrap metal along my arms.

So why was I still _alive_?

I'm sure hell wouldn't smell like sweat and antiseptic. I force my eyes open and take a minute to focus on a familiar ceiling. As my eyes stop blurring and spinning, I take notice of my arms, thickly bandages, and the stiff material around my midsection, preventing me from sitting up. The events of yesterday take my by storm, Nathan and his actions digging a crater in my mind and flooding outwards in wearying degrees of guilt, fear and dread.

The slight shift towards the left side of the room draws my attention. It was Alex? Sleeping on a crappy medjack stool, head in arms on the table. He was right there. I didn't expect the relief flooding over me at the realisation that he was _there_. A night in the maze almost guaranteed my demise.

My _demise_.

I should be dead.

I chose that.

No one had the right to take that from me.

Relief quickly turns to anger as I clench my fists, the action bringing a stab of pain in addition to the agony, now faded to a dull blur. In a valiant attempt at some form of self control, I sit up, flames licking at my core and forcing me into submission. A welp in response to the burning escapes my lips, making Alex bolt up. His eyes shine at the sight of me, his mouth curling into a relieved grin.

"Ivy!" He breathes out.

I stare at him, the gratified boy practically glowing.

My face curls and eyes start to leak as I howl into my hands, gasping and hiccupping between sobs.

"Why am I alive?"

At this, I feel Alex tense from his place at the desk.

"Ivy-" he pauses with a sharp intake of breath. "Vi, what do you mean?"

All I do is shake my head and continue to wail and cry, unable to elaborate. It causes such an intense onslaught of aggravation- the pain came in waves, overwhelming, suffocating.

I feel a tentative arm snake around my shoulders, pulling me in. My throat is shredded raw, my eyes are itchy from all my rubbing, hands slick with tears. This doesn't phase Alex though. He rocks me back and forth as my crying subsides and is reduced to hiccups and shuddering breaths.

As I remove my hands, I take a glance towards him; he looks so _sad_.

"Alex," I start, "I shouldn't be here." I whisper, my voice rising in pitch as the lump forms in my throat once again, threatening another episode.

I shouldn't be here.

I _shouldn't_ be here.

I shouldn't be _here_.

With his face in my hair, he mumbles various pieces of information, attempting to soothe my hysteria as I repeat this mantra under my breath.

"You've been asleep for 8 days-

...

-nd Minho found you-

...

-Nathan's been banished-"

I stop my incoherent rambles and turn to look at Alex. Eyes wide and hopeful.

"He has?"

"Yeah, said something 'bout being controlled but we couldn't keep him here. He was a liability- don't feel bad about it" he replies, tilting my chin up and dissipating the oncoming guilt tugging at my mind. It was my fault they banished him. Had I not provoked him, he'd still be here. He should be, I shouldn't. I chose not to. I _chose_ not to. I should be dead and he should be in my place.

It's a little ironic how life plays out.

"Why did you do it?"

The questions pulls me out of my trance. Why did I do it? Because this is such a fucked up world? Because I hate myself? Because I deserve to? Because I _shouldn't_ be **here**.

A weak shrug is my only reply.

An exasperated sigh is the only confirmation of Alex acknowledging me.

"Okay, I'll get... do you have a preference?"

Another half hearted shrug tugs at my shoulders. This time, Alex's lets go and leaves the room, lingering at the doorway, sending me one final reassuring glance. Once he's gone, the hatred comes. It comes in consecutive echoes, each radiating the same malice twice fold. It's directed at me, Alex, the maze, WICKED. The rampage tears apart my sanity, leaving me to wallow in self pity once again, forcing me to pry my hands out of my hair and along my wrists. This time, pain is welcomed and the burns are savoured. Feeble attempts at unravelling the fabric causes my fingers to falter and fumble, therefore I don't. I regain composure by pinching the abused flesh from within the bandages, causing crimson staining and yet, its such a ecstatic sensation, the only one that provides control.

I should be dead.


End file.
